The Usurper
by MrsSS
Summary: Professor Snape returns to Hogwarts after the war to find that someone has taken over his private laboratory space. And he can't get her out of the space or his mind. AU,OOC
1. Prologue

Prologue

He could feel his heart beat start to slow. The burn of venom had reached the tips of his fingers and toes; he knew it wouldn't be long now. His job was done and he could finally give in to the blackness that had been encroaching on his soul for years. No more pain, no more guilt - just the sweet peace of Death's kiss. He welcomed the release that Nagini had unknowingly given him, courtesy of the Dark Lord. How fitting that the man who had controlled his being for so long was the one to finally end it all.

He knew he had only moments left and he let his thoughts slip – one last time – to Lily. He was going to greet Death with her face floating in his mind's eye. He imagined her welcoming him, calling his name, "Severus" to bring him finally home.

Only…those weren't Lily's eyes he saw looking back at him.


	2. Chapter1

Chapter 1

Blast it! They couldn't leave well enough alone and just let him die, could they?

He strode purposefully down the halls of Hogwarts for the first time in over two years, his robes billowing out behind him as he made his way to the Headmistresses office, fuming. His ever-present scowl caused the student to hurriedly clear a path, lest they lose points on the first day back or, worse, face the wrath of Professor Snape. Even though he hadn't taught at Hogwarts in two years, since before that accursed snake bite, his reputation prevailed among the students so that even first years knew to steer clear of him. Particularly since the older students noted that his look was more murderous than they had ever seen. They rushed off to warn friends, classmates, anyone they could find to warn them – Snape was back.

He strode into Headmistress McGonagall's office without waiting for permission, or even giving her any warning. He drawled out her name, "Minerva," his anger smoothly dripping from every syllable in such a way that would have put the Devil to shame. The calm, quiet anger in his voice was far more intimidating than she had remembered – not that she would let on. "Would you care to explain why there is a student currently brewing a potion and apparently making herself _at home_ in my private laboratory?"

The Headmistress was not even remotely surprised by the interruption – in fact, she had been expecting it since he had returned to the school mere hours ago, purposefully timed to miss the Sorting and the Welcome Feast. She tried to smile and exude the same twinkling spirit that Dumbledore had always managed when she replied, "Oh do calm down Severus. That is not a student down brewing in your lab." She stated it as a matter of fact; as if that answer clarified everything.

He merely glared at her, a different glare from the one that had preceded it – and really, Minerva was amazed at how many separate glares Severus had in his arsenal – and she knew he would not be satisfied with the simple answer she had just given him. She sighed and continued, "Really Severus, there's no reason to get so worked up, particularly when you're so recently out of St. Mungo's. Besides, it's only Hermione Granger working down there. She finished up her final year in the spring and decided to stay here to continue her education, particularly in Charms and Potion making. I have allowed her some space down there to work, assuming it would be good for her to have a quiet space to work and still be near staff if she were to have any questions. You'll hardly even know she's there."

"That's all well and good for her, but pray tell how I will find any peace with her down there? As you did just point out, I have been very recently released from St. Mungo's and am not fully healed. I need peace and quiet in the evenings to rest and heal, not a deluge of questions from your pet."

McGonagall huffed at his snide remark, and tried to keep calm, but some days he was so obstinate that it was hard to not get riled by him. "Severus, really, you're making much too big a fuss over this. She will not distract you from your own work or your recovery. She's simply going to be down there doing some research and brewing a few potions. Now if you don't mind Severus, I've got a meeting and I'm sure you'd like some time to reacquaint yourself with your labs and prepare before classes start." She stood up and took a step in his direction before he abruptly turned on his heel and stalked out.

'Well, that went better than expected' she mused.

Xxxx

Hermione stood at one of the tables in the secluded back lab, patiently stirring the contents of her cauldron and staring off into the distance. 'What a year it's been so far,' she thought, her mind heavy with her thoughts. She had finished her seventh and final year finally; a year later than she should have, had it not been for the war. And of course she was still healing; they all were. The after effects of the war had taken a heavy toll on everyone, and of course everyone was coping differently. Harry, it appeared he had the right idea. He threw himself into repairing, rebuilding, and strengthening whatever he could, including his relationship with Ginny and they couldn't be happier. And now that she was done with school, they worked together, traveled, found odd jobs, and were generally disgusting with how wonderfully _together_ they were.

Ron, well…he seemed to have the exact opposite idea from Harry. He had thoroughly embraced the motto _carpe diem_, and he had certainly seized the day. That and any girl he could get his hands on. Between playing quidditch professionally and playing the metaphoric field, it's a wonder their relationship hadn't disintegrated months before it had. But Hermione had fought to hold on, fought to keep at least one part of her unchanged from before the war. And the whole time he had been pushing her to let go. Well, she had finally been forced to let go.

Now she wasn't quite sure what to do with herself. So she studied. She brewed, she researched, she charmed, she read. But mostly she just kept to herself. She had come to fully appreciate the quiet serenity of the cold, nonjudgmental dungeons over the summer. Somehow, it made her feel better to be in a place that appeared how she felt. It was much easier to exist down in the dungeons than out on the sun brightened lawns among the noisy students attempting to soak up every ray before the weather changed.

Something shifted in the atmosphere, but Hermione was too deep in her thoughts to notice the temperature drop or hear the snap of robes as their wearer strode around the corner and into the lab.

However, the shock of that silky menacing voice wrapping around her was enough to snap her out of her reverie when she heard, "Miss Granger."

**AN: Hi all! This is the first fanfic I've been brave enough to actually publish, so please let me know what you think! And thank you for reading!**


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Miss Granger," he heard himself snarl, more menacing than usual to intentionally break her out of her apparent reverie.

One glance around his lab and he had made up his mind – she definitely had to go. Her various stacks of parchment and books were strewn across one table, while her current notes and a cauldron full of what looked eerily like a Polyjuice potion in process sat on the next. Yes, she was definitely still the same Granger. Same organizational system, same bushy brown hair – though slightly more curly and less bushy than before – yes, she definitely hadn't changed much over the last few years. Except, from what he could tell through the shape of her robes, she had physically matured. Though still petite, she was more gently curved, less the awkward adolescent figure she had been before. And it suited her.

Wait. Where had that thought come from? He shook his head slightly, as if to shake the thought from his head entirely.

"Were you planning on leaving any room for me in my own labs?"He asked, his silky voice wrapping around her, strangling her with its malice.

He watched her start at his voice, her hands trembling slightly. It was hardly noticeable to most, yet not to him. Not to the man who kept himself alive through minute details for close to two decades. As she turned to face him he could read the fear in his eyes and it startled him. It wasn't the normal fear that his students had for him. No, this fear went deeper; this was a fear that came straight from the core of her being. She quickly wiped the surprise and fear from her face, but he could still see the slightest hint of those deeper emotions in those big brown eyes or hers.

"Oh, Professor Snape! I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting you back until Thursday. Give me a few moments and I'll have my things tidied."

He smirked. Obviously she had been in the dungeons for far too long. "Ms. Granger, today is Thursday."

"Oh…. _Oh_." He watched her face fall as his statement sunk in and she turned the remaining distance to fully face him. It was then he noticed the dark circles under her eyes, circles so dark he had though were shadows moments before. She started nervously wringing her hands as she apologized again. Something more than academic zeal was definitely plaguing her. Not that he cared, he reminded himself. He just wanted her out of his lab. She had finally finished her apology, paused, then asked, "Sir, do you have a preference for which side of the room you'd like me to keep my things confined to?"

He sputtered mentally. 'Wh- Hu- Wha- Which side? Side, why a side? Of all the… That impudent chit thought she could stay, simple as that? Hardly. He was not one to give up such precious private space easily. She could hardly think she was actually going to be staying did she? After all, Minerva McGonagall may be the headmistress, but he was Severus Snape, Death Eater, spy, servant of the Dark Lord, torturer, murderer…what else did people say? Ah yes, slimy greasy haired git.' And with that frame of mind, he managed to growl out, "Side, Ms. Granger? Why would you need a _side_ if you will not be working in my private labs any longer?"

It was her turn to stammer, "B-b-but Sir! The headmistress told me I could stay back here to conduct my research. Particularly with the students back for the year, I would hate to have one of my potions left out in the main lab and a student get hurt because of it! I have to stay in here to work!" The look on her face showed it wasn't necessarily her concern for the students that had her argue so vehemently. A look of terror spasmed across her face at the thought of having to work somewhere other than his lab. Interesting.

Blast, but she did make a valid argument. He waved a hand indolently toward the back of the room and advised, "Take your things back there, and do keep in mind I maintain perfect cleanliness and order in my labs. I will expect nothing less from you." He turned, prepared to leave her alone to tidy up, then remembered the bruise-dark color under her eyes. He turned back to see her head hung, her movements slow and obviously full of anguish. And there was that tremor in her hands again. He watched her hands curl into fists, and she pulled them to herself, undoubtedly frustrated that it hadn't stopped yet. "And Ms. Granger? Get out of my lab and sleep before you cause something to explode. And do not dare try to return before you have done so." With that final command, he stormed out of room, his robes snapping once again as they attempted to keep up with his purposeful stride.

XXXX

Sleep? Really? Didn't he think she would if she could?

Hermione was upset. No, not upset, incensed. Incensed and utterly exhausted. Not only did he abruptly slash his way into her solitude with less than two minutes of his ever so valuable time, he ordered her to the farthest corner from where she had been working for the last few months. She had finally managed to find a routine, to sort out her own rather unique organizational system and be comfortable enough with the relative darkness and solitude that the dungeons provided, and he effectively obliterated it in one go. And, well, he was definitely spot on – she was exhausted. Beyond exhausted if she were to truly be honest with herself. Maybe that's why everything seemed so much more frustrating than it should have been.

Was it really Thursday already? How had she managed to completely lose two days? Maybe it was about time for to try to sleep again. And she did have some Dreamless Sleep draught left. Not that she really wanted to drink it. She was far too dependent on it already, and she knew she had to learn to sleep without it eventually. Or, as evidenced by her current situation, not sleep at all. Perhaps she should look into muggle sleep aids. Perhaps she could find one without such addicting qualities. Though, that search would definitely have to wait.

It was a wonder how her notes remained decently coherent after two and a half days without sleep. Well, she would just move all her things as he demanded, then try to get a few hours of sleep while the sun was still up. It usually worked a bit better if she could fall asleep while sun streamed through her window. The oppressive infinite blackness only made matters worse. And, quite frankly, she knew he was right, as much as she hated to admit it. She would either explode something or catch herself on fire if she kept brewing right now. Fortunately she was in no major rush to finish her Polyjuice potion, so she set the potion aside to simmer until she had slept some.

Finally through moving her things, she managed to trudge out, completely oblivious to Snape sitting at his desk in the classroom, staring at her.

XXXX

She looked dejected. Morose. Disconsolate. He couldn't quite explain how he could tell, but there was something wrong with her. She managed to shuffle her way out of the dungeons, head down and hands stuffed in the pockets of her robs, not even noticing him. Her posture was one of a person broken in spirit. And it went much deeper than the trivial sorts of things that girls her age normally moped about. She looked bone weary and heart sore. Don't ask where he had picked up that phrase, it was pulled from the recesses of his memories from somewhere during the last few decades of his life.

How depressing to think he had been alive for decades – and not just one or two. No, he was pushing dangerously close to four. He ran his hand through his hair and remembered the small gray streaks he had noticed starting near his temples. It made sense that they would start appearing so early; it felt like so many many more than just four decades of life to him. Loathe as he was to admit it, 'bone weary and heart sore' was an appropriate phrase for him as well. The double life he had led for so long only served to make his life feel like it had been twice as long. Playing the puppet and keeping his emotions firmly in check; fighting for one side while pretending to the other – and of course, not getting caught. That had been the challenge that had kept him in motion for years. Now...Well, he didn't know what stopped him from withdrawing from his old life entirely, retreating to the house he owned at Spinner's End, and settling down with a book and a cauldron for his remaining years. Minerva McGonagall, that bothersome, meddlesome woman. It was entirely because of her persistence that he was sitting there, the one place he even remotely considered home. Perhaps she was making Ms. Granger her next project; it was apparent to anyone with half a brain that something was wrong with the girl. Perhaps not the detrimental weight he felt bogging down his soul, but there was definitely something there, something that kept her from being her usual bothersome know-it-all self. Maybe he would still find a bit of peace in his lab after all. If Granger wasn't incessantly asking questions, she couldn't be nearly as horrid to be around, could she?

Not that he cared. As long as his labs were safe from complete and utter ruin, he did not care. Leave that to someone else, someone with a light heart and little weighing down his conscience. Or McGonagall, who seemed to be trying to fix anything in sight. No, he just wanted time in his lab and a modicum of peace for once in his life.

Funny, how thoughts of peace brought Ms. Granger barging back into his classroom. Whatever was it going to be this time?

"Sorry, Professor, I forgot something. I'll only be a moment." Her voice, what had happened to it? Usually it was so persistent, so strong in her knowledge that she was right. Now, it was merely a whisper, an ghost of its former passionate power. He watched her continue through to his lab and emerge only a moment later carrying her wand. As quickly as she had appeared, she was gone again and he could return to his dreaming of peace.

Wait… She had forgotten her wand? And it took her – he glanced at his watch – a full half hour to return for it? He was going to have to speak to the headmistress. There was no way he was allowing her into his inner sanctum, his private refuge, when she was as scatterbrained as she was right now. Merlin, he'd never see any peace with interruptions like that.

He smirked inwardly as the second years filed into the room. Peace, ha. Not with this bunch. Well, just wait. Professor Severus Snape was back, scowl firmly in place. If he wasn't going to get peace, he might as well find some way to enjoy himself. These second years had it easy last year. He had looked over the notes left by Professor Everard and saw that their first year's lessons had been far too easy. They were well behind where they should be. And he knew Everard, knew what a soft-hearted twit he was. No, he would not be getting any peace, but he would certainly make sure that they did not either. His day improved infinitesimally when he stood up, glowering at the class, and noted the collective flinch as he raised his wand.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

She awoke with a start, wondering what had pulled her from such a deep refreshing rest. Then she noted her window, curtains pulled wide, showed the sun barely managing to keep itself up above the tree tops of the Forbidden Forrest. Funny how her body knew to wake her before all the light was gone. The irony of her particular predicament did amuse her, in a warped sort of way – she was so scared to sleep at night or any time that had the potential to be too dark that her body jolted her awake, and yet, she felt safest when she was down in the dungeons brewing. In Snape's dungeon. Imagine that.

She was, however, thankful it was still summer. That meant longer days and an hour or two of extra sleep, which she had sorely needed. She was refreshed. Amazing what happened after one managed a few hours of sleep. Next time, she would make sure to not let it go so long before she slept again. Two and a half days was just too long. Fortunately her head was much clearer than it had been that morning. Looking back, she was appalled that she had done that to herself, and more importantly, to her work. She could have done some serious damage with her senses as dulled as they had been. Now that she was awake she would just make her way back to the dungeons and get back to work.

Her stomach protested that particular idea. She couldn't place exactly the last time she had eaten either, but she had a sneaking suspicion it had been at least a day. If she didn't stop these poor habits soon, someone was bound to notice. And the last thing she wanted was someone poking around, trying to help. No one could help, and she certainly didn't want to be forced to _talk about it_. No, it was better for her to keep to herself and try to remember to eat and sleep so she wouldn't look like a zombie.

Checking the time, she noted that the Great Hall would undoubtedly be filled with students for dinner. She may be feeling a bit more sprightly than usual, but by no means was she ready to join that boisterous crowd. Besides, now that she was not officially a student any longer, she wasn't quite sure of her place, wasn't quite sure what she was considered in the castle. Minerva – my, it was odd for her to be Minerva now, not Professor McGonagall – had invited her to join the rest of the professors at the head table, but Hermione wasn't sure if she would truly be welcomed there. Nor did she fit in at the Gryffindor table anymore. She didn't even know any of them by name any more, only by sight from meal time previous years.

No, she would…well she didn't really want to, but it looked as if it was her only other option. She would summon a house elf and – very politely, of course – request a sandwich or some other small snack. Nothing to put them to any extra trouble, of course. Then she would head down to work while the hallways would be nearly empty. It was much easier to traverse the corridors when she didn't have to worry about bumping into so many people.

The one thing she hadn't counted on in her planning was Snape actually being in his dungeon laboratory. Of course he would skip dinner in the Great Hall, avoid the fuss and disorder as she had, and come down to what was obviously his personal sanctuary to brew. If that had been her brilliant idea to escape the masses, why would he not have the same thoughts? She tried, as she usually did these days, to walk softly and keep her head down to avoid notice. Only this time it was to avoid the wrath of a certain professor who was currently scowling over several sheets of parchment. Unfortunately, it didn't work. He saw her creeping toward the back of the room and cleared his throat. The rumors of his bat-like senses were apparently true, because she could have sworn she didn't make a single sound when she entered the room. Yet there he was at the other end of the room glaring.

"Good evening, Professor," she said in response to his throat clearing. Hopefully being polite and succinct would get her to her work with as little conversation as possible.

"Good evening Ms. Granger. I trust you are well rested and not as likely to cause a disaster now?"

Now, the old Hermione, the one that hadn't been so tired even with her constant studying, would have had something to retort. The new Hermione simply gave a slight shrug of her shoulders and replied, "Yes, sir."

This received a raised eyebrow from her former teacher. He hadn't lost his touch at conveying volumes with a single look. Obviously her answer hadn't been nearly reassuring enough for his liking. She made a sort of hopeless looking gesture towards her things tucked in the back corner and asked, "May I?"

She was surprised when he simply gave her a sharp nod. She had expected more of a fight from him, particularly since she was invading his space during time that he, undoubtedly, would have been alone if she had not been there. She sat and began reviewing her notes from the last few days, just to double check her calculations and make sure she truly had been aware enough to do keep her potion progressing how she wanted. As she read, she started to worry.

Her notes were what she remembered writing, but they made no sense! She remembered adding the newt tails before she mixed in the monkshood, not after. And why on earth would she have stirred the mixture seven times clockwise after letting it rest 36 hours, rather than before? Perhaps she really was more out of her mind than she realized. She was quite seriously contemplating more sleep, even though it was fully dark now. Then she noticed her stack of books in the corner was completely out of sorts as well. She knew she had stacked them in just such an order to retrieve certain books more easily than others. Then she noticed Snape sitting there, watching her, and she knew.

She returned his glare, quite happy that he could no longer take points from her or give her detention. She glared and asked, in a cruelly soft voice that almost rivaled his, "Did you go through my things?"

She thought she saw surprise flash across his face before the glare came back out to play. "Of course I did. I had to make sure you weren't doing anything ridiculous or daft in my laboratory."

"You had no right!"

"I had every right," he sneered, "this is my private lab, which I am graciously allowing you to use for your 'research' as you put it. Now I know you're not quite as insipid as most of the dunderheads in the castle, but I cannot simply trust that you say you are not going to cause any damage to my space." He paused while she seethed. It was amazing really, how tinged with red her cheeks were. "And, Ms. Granger, you may want to review your calculations involving those newt tails for your next attempt."

Newt tails? That's all he was going to say? No apology for rummaging? For destroying her order and organization? Urrrgh, he was so exasperating! Now it would take ages to put everything to rights. She spoke once more, trying to remain calm, "Professor Snape, you really had no right to leave my things as you did. I am no longer a student that you can harass and terrorize."

Sweet venom dripped from his voice, "Really Ms. Granger? What are you then?"

XXXX

He watched the myriad emotions roll across her face as she processed his question: frustration, anger, embarrassment, anger again, then confusion and hurt – the last left her looking as if all the air had been knocked forcefully out of her lungs. Apparently he had struck a nerve. He watched her eyes mist up, her head dropping to stare at the ground. Very softly, almost too softly she replied, "I don't know." If he didn't have such keen hearing, he probably would have missed it. She sat at her table in the back of the room, her hair creating a shield between herself and the world, her hands tucked in her lap, and he could just make out her teeth worrying her lower lip. There was that look again, the one of utter dejection that had disappeared after she slept. It was back and it was entirely his fault.

No, not his fault. How was he to know that what he said would upset her? No, he just explained that he was trying to keep them both alive and she misconstrued what he said. How was that his fault? No, it was certainly not his fault. He was going to finish reviewing the day's papers and the potions then retire to his quarters. He could only hope he had some Firewhisky remaining. He'd only been back one day, and he already needed a stiff drink. Now that he had no grand role to fulfill, perhaps it was time to think about retiring. Heading back to the house on Spinner's End would finally give him some of that peace and solitude he yearned so much for. All he had to do was find a way to get Minerva to let him go. She certainly wasn't going to let him walk leave the school willingly. There was that little detail about assuaging a guilty conscience for not believing his true loyalty. How she intended to do that by keeping him stuck in the school, he had no idea.

He finally finished his grading and she was still there, sitting in perfect stillness across the room. If he didn't know better he'd think she was a statue, not one of the most voracious students Hogwarts had seen in several decades, if not centuries. He got up and made his way back to where she sat, simply – he told himself – to make sure she didn't have anything brewing that would damage his workspace.

She was sleeping. He couldn't fathom how, seeing as she was propped up on her left hand and her head was lolling forward rather dangerously. He gave a near silent snort as he mentally pictured the bit or drool forming in the corner or her mouth dropping and smudging her notes. She was almost as fastidious as he was, so he could imagine what a disaster that would be for her.

He paused for a moment, considered waking her and sending her off to sleep elsewhere, then decided against it. Perhaps she would wake here in the morning to a classroom full of students on the other side of the door and be too embarrassed to return after everyone saw her sleep rumpled hair and lines on her face. Or perhaps she would decide to sleep more during the conventionally acceptable hours so he wouldn't have to find her all hours of the day or night, as he had early that morning. Either way it would be a lesson worth learning in his eyes. So he waved his want to extinguish the torches in the room, and pulled the door shut as he left.

XXXX

Screaming. Someone in the dungeons was emitting an ear shattering shriek, the kind that he remembered only too well from his past. He had been dozing in his quarters when he first heard it, and was convinced he had started to dream. Those sorts of dreams were not as uncommon as he would have wished. Then, as he came fully awake, the screaming continued. And it was close. One step into the hall and he knew it was coming from the laboratory.

He rushed to the lab, concerned that she had managed to explode or melt something after all. He flung the door open and found her huddled under the table, knees to her chest, huddled as small as she could possibly get herself to scrunch.


	5. Chapter 4

**AN: Hello lovely readers! Thank you so very much for the support you've shown me so far by reading, alerting, reviewing, etc. Enjoy!**

Chapter 4

Snape threw open the door to the laboratory, almost missing Hermione huddled under her corner table, deep within the shadows. He flicked his wand, bringing light back to the room to try to find where she was injured. Fortunately, when the lights came on, her shrieks dulled to a pathetic whimper. She didn't make any attempt to move from her fetal position under the table though. He didn't see a melted cauldron, or potion spilled anywhere. In fact the only things out of place were a few stray pieces of parchment on the floor, and Hermione under the table, of course. He strode over, knelt down, and reached out to her while he asked, "Where are you hurt?"

At the sight of his hand coming toward her, she gave a small yelp and retreated further under the table. He could see the innate fear in her eyes coupled with her mussed hair and a few lines on his face and realized she wasn't hurt, not physically at least. No, she had been asleep, dreaming, no – having one completely anguishing nightmare. He withdrew his hand and tried speaking, hoping to draw her out of her half-asleep state.

"Ms. Granger."

Nothing. Her eyes still looked through him, still focusing on whatever images the recesses of her mind had brought forth.

"Ms. Granger," he tried, louder. Still nothing.

"Ms. Granger."He tried once more, even louder, and still no response.

"Hermione." Soft that time, barely above a whisper, and he was startled when her head snapped up and her eyes locked with his, recognition finally dawning. Her hands immediately went to her mouth in an appalled gesture, shocked at where she found herself. And shocked by who found her.

She started to stammer out something, "P-p-p-prof… I – erm, well…"

"Hermione, are you…? Well, that is to say, Ms. Granger, what happened?"

"Yes, sir. It was just a bad dream."

Bad dream my… "Ms. Granger, that was certainly more than just a bad dream. I believe anyone in the dungeons could have heard your screams." Her cheeks flushed an even brighter red, if that was possible. "Come, I suggest we take you up to see Madam Pomfrey. It appears you could use some Dreamless Sleep tonight."He extended a hand toward her, noting only a slight flinch this time, not the complete physical withdrawal from moments before.

"Sir, I can't do that."

"Why ever not? I heard you, girl. You most certainly need help sleeping tonight."

"I…erm." There was that lovely pink flush to her cheeks again. (Wait, lovely?) "I can't because, well, I've been taking it far too much over the last year. I've been trying to stop."

He understood only too well. Most likely, he understood her situation better than most in the castle. He knew how devastating those sorts of dreams could have. And he knew how hard it was to cope with the dreams and lack of sleep. Granted, he didn't usually turn to Dreamless Sleep when he had access to his own stock of Firewhiskey, but he knew both substances were just as dangerous after prolonged use. The question now was what he would do with the still shaking young lady huddled on his laboratory floor. He couldn't just pat her on her head and send her off to her bed. He knew with some certainty that she would not be able to sleep in the next few hours. Nor was he comfortable leaving her sitting in the dungeon alone in her current dazed state.

"Well, Ms. Granger, I certainly understand, but what do you propose to do? I'm assuming sleep is out of the picture for the rest of the night."

XXXX

Dark as deep as pitch. Hands like claws. The bite of metal on flesh. She could see flashes of a face; cruel eyes haunted her. A wolf like grin before her face, and gone in the same instant.

The worst part of the dreams was not knowing exactly where she was or who was there. She certainly could remember the feel of what they had done. That particular feeling was likely never going to fade from her tender flesh. The questions unanswered, the flashes of faces appearing out of the dark: those were the images that she couldn't shake from her mind. That, and the laughter. It came in bursts, following the stinging.

Light. Warmth. The voice, soft and smooth as satin, pulling her in one swift instant from the darkness of her mind. That voice wrapped around her, as comforting as a small child's blanket. Like sunlight kissing a springtime field full of flowers turning toward its life-giving light. Then she could see a face swimming across her vision, blurry but obviously concerned. Professor Snape.

The realization caught her deep in her core, knocked the wind from her lungs. How could this man, this evil git who had tortured her for years, be the owner of such a peaceful voice? She felt her cheeks warm at the thought of that voice coupled with the look in his eyes. A look that said 'Let me help; let me wash away the pain.' It was so uncharacteristic coming from the man that was never seen with anything less than a scowl. His face looked younger somehow, relaxed from its normal countenance. Perhaps his body was tired of all the anger, all the unhappiness, so concern – a much more human emotion, in her opinion – was a welcome change to his system. Whatever the reason, he looked…better. She could still see the years of hard life worn on his face, but without the scowl – well, it helped.

"Well, Ms. Granger, I certainly understand, but what do you propose to do? I'm assuming sleep is out of the picture for the rest of the night."

Sleep? Now? What a laugh. He certainly had picked up on that observation easily enough. But, he certainly had a point. What was she going to do until sleep overtook her body? And, more importantly, what was she going to do to stop those dreams. Her attempts at a potion for a dreamless sleep without the addictive qualities had thus far been useless. It was a good thing he hadn't been around for her first few attempts. And better that she knew how to clean the muggle way. There was only so much a good scourgify could get off of the ceiling. She snorted softly at the thought.

Still, what was she going to do for the next several hours, while the rest of the castle slept peacefully? "Well, I suppose I could creep up to the library and find a few more books to help my research."

She watched his face, ready for the outrage at the thought of her sneaking around, and… it didn't come. Instead, he showed only curiosity. "What are you researching now? I saw from your notes that you've switched away from the sleeping draught you started with, but your new potion… Well, I am intrigued."

Was that…_praise_ from Professor Snape? It couldn't be.

Wow, she must really be a sight if he was willing to actually converse with her to help her calm down. Dear Merlin, she wished she could look into a mirror right then. He was looking at her oddly, rather expectantly. Oh! He had asked a question. "Erm, well…I'm hoping to develop a potion that will alter the needs of vampires. I'm looking to change the chemistry of their bodies so that they will require protein from things like cooked meats rather than straight from blood. I'm hoping to help make the communities they tend to live near a bit safer, but I'm very much in the preliminary stages there. The potion I've had brewing has just been a headache aid. Something a bit more powerful than what Madam Pomfrey hands out."

"A potion that would change the body chemistry for what vampires need to consume?" He looked stunned.

"You think it's idiotic. I've seen that look before."

"On the contrary, Ms. Granger, I think it's quite an interesting way to look at that problem. Rather than try to eradicate vampires, or find a different way to provide them with blood, your potion would simply change what they eat. If you can find a way to make it work, you will have solved a problem wizards have been trying to fix for centuries. I'm rather interested to see how much headway you manage to make."

She wasn't sure if she should be offended, or take that as a compliment. She didn't have much of a chance to contemplate that as he continued, "Ms. Granger, bright though you undoubtedly are, I believe you need a break from such a taxing load. I suggest you find something to do to relax for a bit before you continue on in this vein. Might I suggest the book _Grindelwald_ by Elias Nohrus? You will find a copy in the restricted section, not that you should have any problems with that."

XXXX

He looked her over once more, relieved to note that the death-like grip she had on her knees had eased, and he had started to see the fire returning to her eyes. Such warm chocolaty brown eyes.

He shook his head, again trying to rid his mind of such an odd thought. Now that she was sufficiently clear of the danger of exploding something, he was quite ready to make his way back to his study. It was only then that he realized he had not put on his coat or robes before rushing from his study. Suddenly he felt quite exposed in only trousers and his high-collared shirt.


	6. Chapter 5

**AN: Hello lovely readers! I've managed got this fic off to a rather nice posting roll over the last week (if I do say so myself). However I must apologize because I won't be able to continue updating every day since in the last week I've moved to a new apartment 2 hours away from my old home and started school again for the first time in a year and a half. Needless to say I've been rather busy! (I spent close to three hours at the grocery store stocking my kitchen, if that tells you anything.)**

**Don't despair though! I'm nearly unpacked now, and there's a lovely weekend just around the corner with promises of being snowed in, so you may just be in luck this weekend!**

**As always, thank you all so very much for reading my ramblings, and I'm always happy to know what you think!  
**

Chapter 5

Hermione opened her eyes groggily, rolling her neck to ease the stiffness. When had she fallen asleep? The last she remembered, she had found the book Snape had mentioned about Grindelwald, and had settled in her room to read it. Glancing around, she noted that she was curled up on the overstuffed armchair in her room, the book lying open on the floor beneath her feet. Then she saw the sun barely peeking above the tops of the trees through her window. Had she actually slept at night?

What a novel concept it was after a year of naps caught when she could on rare afternoons.

She puzzled over that for a moment then returned to the book. She surprised herself when she could only recall making it through the first few pages. She flipped through pages, looking for the last thing she remembered reading, and found her spot on page six. Deciding it was too early to head down to the dungeons, she continued where she had previously left off.

XXXX

Snape watched her walk through the doorway late that afternoon looking much better. The deep shadows under her eyes had been reduced to a pale flush of violet, and her skin had lost the too pale pallor of death that used to hang just under the surface. It had been replaced with a healthy rosy tint that made her look better, if not on her way to healthy, and her eyes had lost the glassy sheen. If he were honest, it was her lovely eyes alone that truly brought back the look of vitality to her face. Now her eyes were bright and full of questions; they fully expressed the inquisitive know-it-all nature that he came to expect from her. It was a refreshing sight after the almost vampiric pallor she had worn before.

"Professor Snape?" As wrapped in his thoughts as he had been, he was surprised to see that Hermione had made her way to stand before him rather than head to her work space in the back of the room. His head snapped up, and one dark eyebrow arched, trying to maintain his usual façade rather than let on how glad he was to see her looking better.

Not that he truly cared, he reminded himself. It was just good to see that he could stop worrying so much about the state of his labs each evening.

"Sir, I was wondering… Have you actually read _Grindelwald_?"

He gave a mental snort. "Of course I have, Ms. Granger. Why else would I recommend that particular book to you?"

"Oh, well, in that case, I am curious… Did you have any trouble getting through the book?" At that the corners of his mouth twitched up. Of course he had. "You see, I can't seem to get more than three or four pages each time I pick it up. That is the first book I've ever read – or, well, attempted to read – that I've ever struggled with, and every time I pick it up I end up falling asleep! And, as we all know, Grindelwald led a rather eventful life, so I'm not quite sure what's been going on. But I also know I've slept better in the two days since you recommended the book than I have in at least a year."

Snape had trouble hiding the laughter that wanted so desperately to bubble forth. "Of course Grindelwald led a moderately eventful life. Unfortunately, Nohrus is one of the greatest twits I've ever had the misfortune of speaking with. I believe he may even be worse than Professor Binns at keeping his audience interested."

"Then why…?"

"It's quite simple really Ms. Granger. I'm rather surprised you don't have an answer for that yourself." He paused to let his remark sink in. "I've seen your telltale signs, the dark circles under your eyes, the pale color of your skin. And more specifically, I've been privy to one of your nightmares. I know insomnia and exhaustion when I see it, having experienced those same problems before, and discovering Mr. Nohrus' book has been _useful_ to me."

"Oh, but why …. Oh. I see. So you must have your own copy sitting on a nightstand as your sleep aid now. And of course I'm sure you'd need it after the last few years, and, well after everything that happened during the war. I'm sure you know better than most how hard those times were. That's why you had to send me to sneak in the library rather than lend out your own copy."

"Where I keep my copy is of no concern to you Ms. Granger." He watched her face fall at his growled statement. He softened, for some reason unknown even to himself. "However, you are correct in your assumption that I too have some trouble sleeping, most particularly after the events of the war."

He watched as a look of intrigue passed across her face at his less than scathing response, followed closely by a short giggle. She muttered unintelligibly to herself, then exclaimed, "I can't believe I didn't think of it before! I spent the better part of a year working on a non-addictive potion for dreamless sleep, just so I could finally get a good night's sleep without worrying about the withdrawals that would come. I'm sure you saw in my notes, I couldn't quite figure out anything that would serve my purpose. How simple that all I needed was just the right book! It just wasn't something related to my potion attempts." He smirked as she gave another small chuckle.

She looked up at him, meeting his eye for the first time in a few years at the very least. He felt something stir deep in his core, a light fluttering he hadn't felt since….

"Professor, thank you for your recommendation," She told him sincerely. "I haven't slept so well in ages. Perhaps tonight I'll remember to start reading once I'm in bed, rather than sitting up in my armchair." She absentmindedly rolled her head to the side as she massaged her neck, and Severus found himself watching her slim fingers caress that expanse of skin that usually hid under her bushy mane. Hair that, he realized as he watched, wasn't nearly as bushy as he remembered. Somehow she had managed to tame it so that it was a wild mass of satiny soft looking curls rather than the frizzy mass he had always known.

Wait, since when did he care about this young chit's hair? He must have been going soft since his return.

"Professor, do you, well, since we're on the subject, that is… Do you have any other advice for helping get rid of the insomnia and nightmares?"

"Talk about it." He surprised even himself when he blurted that response. Though mentally, he knew he really wanted to say 'talk about it with me.' He clarified, "Have you been able to talk about it? I know the Ministry provided counseling to all students after the war ended. Or perhaps you and Potter or Weasley have all had a chat about it?" He noted her cheeks pale.

She gave a small sound, something akin to a yelp, but hardly audible. "No sir. I can't talk about it. I tried once and well…. I can't talk about it." That must have been some conversation, he ruminated. He looked at her, watched her warring with thoughts much deeper than he had heard that afternoon. Something, some strange unknown pull told him to say something, to draw her out before her inner demons took over again. And for some inexplicable reason he hated seeing that look on his face.

"Ms. Granger, would you care for a game of chess? I'd imagine we could both use an afternoon off from our various thoughts.

XXXX

Hermione was surprised by him, to say the least. He was being – well, not nice necessarily, but amiable at least. It had been a week since their chat about the Grindelwald book, and they had spent a great deal of their evenings together. She was surprised at what a wonderful sounding board he was as she tried to develop ideas for her vampire potion, and how comfortable their silence was now that he was no longer her teacher. Funny what a year and a change in relationship could do. He didn't seem nearly as daunting now that he couldn't terrorize her with detentions or, worse, failing grades. He seemed to notice the shift in their standing as well, and it didn't appear that he was overly concerned that was wasn't scared out of her wits by him any longer.

Even more odd, she found herself analyzing him with new eyes. Now that he wasn't her overbearing professor, his formal black clothes and ubiquitous billowing robes stopped serving as another means for him to strike fear in her. Instead, they seemed almost comfortable on him. And well, they did help call attention to his rather striking eyes. She realized as she regarded him that his eyes were the darkest brown she had ever seen, but definitely not the soulless black every student accused him of having. It put her in mind of hot chocolate she had tried whilst on a visit to France, made with rich dark chocolate.

While Hermione most certainly liked this newer view of her former Potions professor, she wasn't quite sure what to make of it all. But she did know she treasured each evening when he set aside his papers or his potions and invited her to a game of chess.


	7. Chapter 6

**AN: Here we go, though a little later than I originally thought. I hope you enjoy, and of course your thoughts are always welcomed!**

Chapter 6

No doubt about it, Hermione was frustrated. No, she was more than just frustrated, she was incensed. One week. One blissful, heavenly week without a single nightmare and she thought she had finally escaped their evil clutches.

But no, that would have been far too easy for her neurotic, over processing brain. Now she felt as if she had been dropped back to step one.

She sat in Snape's office, playing chess with him again after a long evening of pouring over books, but her mind was understandably elsewhere. There was a reason those dreams made her want to stay awake for days on end, and it certainly wasn't because she enjoyed them so. If only she had someone she could talk to, someone who wouldn't judge her. But no, what happened to her had to stay buried deep inside where no one would ever know the true nature of what she had been through. However, it would be nice to have a friend to talk to. She missed having Ginny around to prattle on about this couple or that scandal, if only because it kept her somewhat connected to the rest of the world around her. Now, with Ginny gone, she felt like she was floating listlessly in space. She had nowhere to go, nothing to do. After living years where her life revolved around keeping Harry alive and being there for him, she wasn't quite sure what to do with herself. So she found herself floating along, completely alone. She fought hard to not let a sob escape.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Snape, "Ms. Granger, what is going on this evening? You've nearly trounced me every evening this week, and tonight I've had to struggle to not checkmate."

"Oh, I'm sorry Professor. My mind has been elsewhere tonight. I'll try harder to focus on our game." He watched her reach out to make a move, noting the tremble in her fingers.

"Checkmate." Hermione cocked her head to one side and looked at her Potions Master, not understanding why he would say that. Then she looked at the board more closely. "Ms. Granger, I have never won a chess match so easily. What ever is the matter?"

That wast it. Something inside her snapped. She let out a strangled sob and slid from her chair to the floor. Her knees came up and her head went to them, assuming much the same position as she had been in when he found her hiding under a table a week ago in hysterics. Had she looked up, she would have seen a look of blatant shock on his face hiding the panic at not knowing what to do. She heard him get up and felt his presence next to her, saw the voluminous folds of his robes out of the corner of her tear blurred vision. He placed a hand gently on her shoulder and the dam didn't just break, the deluge started.

In a tear-soaked, struggling voice she started, "I don't know what's going on with me. I can't stop the dreams; horrible dreams that force me to relive events I would never wish on even the worst of my enemies. And I can't talk about it. I tried once and Ron – well, to say he reacted badly would be an understatement." Her sobs were broken by the attempt at a derisive laugh. "He left me. I tore open my soul for him and he left me, staring at like I was Medusa and my snake-hair was coming to bite him. I must be a monster considering the obscenities he was screaming at me. Things I daren't repeat. And I can't talk to Ginny or Harry or anyone else. Not after what Ron told them. It was the worst of betrayals. I poured out my pain, hoping to be healed by the boy who professed to love me, and he poisoned my only friends against me. So now I'm alone in the world. I'm lost and alone and no one can bring me back from this misery filled void I'm living in. So I stay awake, and I work, and I try to move on, but I don't know where I'm moving to. I continue moving through this dark chasm where my life used to be, some days rising, some falling, but never moving out of this horrible black hole. And I wonder, what am I doing alive still? I should have died during the war. I should have died rather than live in this horrible nightmare I can't even call a life. But I didn't die, so I float on helplessly, trying to sleep, trying to work, trying to live, but I can't do that either. I was so close, in those days I was trapped in that dark hole, so close. Why couldn't I die?" Her thoughts finished pouring forth and turned to sobs flowing freely even though she was in the presence of a man she once professed to hate until her dying day.

XXXX

Once her sobbing had finally petered out, he lifted her gently, almost reverently, and carried her to the couch in his office and covered her with a blanket accioed from his quarters. She opened one puffy eye blearily, closed it, and was asleep almost instantly.

He sat there for a long while, watching her sleep and contemplating everything she had let out during her rant. So she had been hurt, been close to death, and could not talk to anyone about it. Oddly enough, it was probably best that she had finally burst in his presence. Who better than he would know what she was going through? He could not even count the times he had wished for death to free him from the hell that had been his life. Now? Well, he was glad the war was over, and he had been given a chance to live again; to mold his life into something more enjoyable. And he had been doing so. Teaching had been his passion long before he had graduated and the Dark Lord had lured him into that underworld of death and destruction. So he taught again, the same stern taskmaster he had always been. But now he was free to actually think about forming attachments, to work more with students that needed it, to offer extra learning to the students that excelled. It made his profession much more enjoyable to actually be a teacher, not just a professor spewing instructions. That brought him back to Ms. Granger. She was the prime candidate in his mind for extra instruction, to learn all he had to teach. And, after hearing all that was plaguing her soul, he wanted to help, and more than just with her studies. His heart – that miniscule muscle slowly beating in his chest – started beating just a mite faster as he thought of teaching her his most well kept brewing secrets; of drawing her out of her personal hell the way he had wished for so long someone could do for him. Well, he had been given a second life after that damned snake bit him and he had been left for dead, and now he wanted to help another lost soul find her second life as well.

If he didn't know better he would think he was starting to care for the girl. No, that wasn't quite right. She was no longer merely a girl. She had grown, matured, been forced to live more in her short years than some lived in one hundred. She was very much grown into womanhood now, so much wiser than many her age. And it was that wisdom that made her stand out from her peers. And if he was truly being honest with himself – as he had promised he would do now that he had a second lease on life – then yes, he was starting to care for the lovely lady lying on his couch. He wanted to wrap his arms around her, draw her close, and hold her until she stopped feeling so utterly alone. He knew what a life-destroying feeling that was, and to borrow a phrase from her – he would not even wish that on his enemies. Though perhaps it was in part because of that utter aloneness that the Dark Lord started down the path he did. Whatever the root cause, it was over now and not worth dwelling on.

He watched her stir on the couch, her arm wrapped around her chest in a one-armed hug tightening its hold. She let loose a light whimper and kicked out her legs at some enemy invisible to him. Her other arm moved from its position lying on the couch cushion to wrap itself around her waist, squeezing tightly like the other, and it was all he could do to keep himself from rushing over and wrapping her in that hug he had just thought about giving.

Against – or in spite of – his better judgment, he found himself kneeling by the couch and reaching out to her. He hesitated for the span of a breath, then laid a hand on her silken curls, running that deliriously lucky hand gently down her hair in the same way he could barely remember his mother doing for him as a small child. She stilled under his touch and he feared for a moment that he had woken her. But after a moment of remaining perfectly still, he watched her arms ease the hold they had on her torso, and he went back to stroking her hair. He couldn't resist himself, didn't want to resist in this delicious moment, and began running his long narrow fingers up and down her arm, tracing the countours of her fingers. He was more than surprised when he felt her fingers close around his, and allowed himself to close his eyes and lean his head against the arm of the couch near hers. He simply wanted to capture that feeling of incandescent happiness while he could. He wasn't even aware as he slipped gently into sleep, sitting on the floor with his hand in hers.


	8. Chapter 7

**AN: Oh... to have a social life! Why must they get in the way of writing? Either way, here is more for you lovely readers, so enjoy!**

Chapter 7

Hermione woke to a feeling that was magnificently peaceful, far better than the sleep she had been getting after reading _Grindelwald_ the last several days. She was comfortable, cozy, and so incandescently happy. She felt a warm hand nestled in hers; heard the gentle breathing of someone near her. It surprised her. For the last year she hadn't been able to let anyone get too close physically. She tried hard with Ron, but that backfired, and hadn't tried since. But now, instead of the usual feelings of nervousness and extreme fright, she felt almost… happy.

Wow. Happy. She had almost forgotten what that felt like. She allowed her eyes to slowly open and take in the scene around her. She wasn't in her room. That gave her a bit of a start. But this place was so familiar looking, so comfortable that the feeling didn't last long. She noticed she was enveloped by an oddly familiar scent: it was spicy, like pine trees and cinnamon, and something else… the scent of a forest after a gentle spring rain. All things that made her feel at home. She inhaled deeply and stilled as the figure near her stirred. It was then she noticed the dark head of hair resting against the couch so close to her head that she had missed it. That head of hair looked so shiny and touchably soft. It brought her back again to that feeling of extreme familiarity. It was so familiar that she wasn't sure why she hadn't placed it all yet. Then the head moved and she found herself staring into the deep ebony eyes of her Potions companion.

XXXX

He couldn't remember the last time he had slept upright. It was hard on his back, his neck bent at an odd angle and his rear numb from being in the same position all night. Yet, he had never been so comfortable. He searched around for a reason and came to realize his hand still rested gently in Hermione's. Peace. That's what she was for him: she was his peace. How had he not realized this earlier? For all the time she had spent in his classroom or studying in his private lab he never realized how nicely she fit with him. Then he realized she couldn't possibly feel the same way. Not for her former professor, the man who had made sure to terrorize her life as well as those of her friends. No, he would simply enjoy this moment, savor the feeling, and continue on with life as he had before. Alone. It wasn't going to be a new feeling for him, so it wouldn't be too horrible.

He felt her starting to move and glanced up, surprised when he found himself staring into her warm brown eyes. She looked shocked to find herself in such a position with her former professor. And yet, she didn't withdraw her hand immediately, and he thought he saw – no it couldn't be. He thought the look on her face must mirror his own. She looked so content. He must have just imagined it. And yet… he hoped. For the first time in countless years, he actually hoped against hope that perhaps he wasn't wrong.

"Oh, professor! I erm… well…" She withdrew her hand finally and blurted out, "Th- t- thank you, sir."

Thanks? She was thanking him for invading her personal space as she slept? He couldn't keep the incredulity out of his voice, "You're thanking me? What ever for?"

"For, well… For staying with me. I'm not sure the last time I slept that comfortably, and it's quite obvious that wasn't the most comfortable way for you to sleep. So thank you."

There was that stirring in his chest again. Hope. It must have been that feeling making him bold, because he couldn't think of any other reason why, but he found himself taking her hand once more and giving it a light squeeze before saying, "I am glad I could help."

He gave her a small smile – more than he had given anyone in quite some time. "Come Her- Ms. Granger. It's been quite a while since I've seen you eat, and there is still time to break our fast before classes begin this morning." He knew she had been invited by the Headmistress to join the professors at the head table, seeing as she was no longer a student, but he had yet to see her grace that table with her presence. It was time for that to change. He was going to pull her back to the real world, as slowly and smoothly as possible, until she ceased to be the shell of her former self she currently was. He would bring her back to the vivacious young lady he once knew, and then…. Well, he didn't know what then, but he would sort that out in time.

XXXX

She was sitting on her own in his private lab, pretending to work, but really she couldn't stop thinking about him. Severus. She let his name roll around her mind, reveling in the cozy contented feelings that washed over her yet again. Strange how radically her thoughts of him had changed. She remembered, vaguely, starting that same vicious nightmare yet again, but something changed that time, something stopped it. Something happier took its place, though she couldn't put her finger on just what. As she thought back, she realized it must have been Severus trying to calm her. And he had done so magnificently. How very very strange of him. She could hardly guess at what had possessed him to do so. Perhaps she cut a rather pathetic figure while she was caught in the midst of her nightmare. Perhaps he felt sorry for her. Perhaps… No, he couldn't actually harbor feelings for her. That was absurd. She knew about his feelings for Lily that stemmed from his youth. And feelings like that were impossibly hard to conquer. Besides, she had been his student. He was sure to think her too young for him. And yet, she found herself hoping still. She wanted to have that feeling again. That complete and utter peace he had given her by simply holding her hand while she slept. It was so simple, such an innocuous action, and yet, it was simply perfect. She couldn't stop herself from craving more, craving his touch to settle her soul once again, and wondered if he could possibly feel even an inkling of what she did. She doubted it. She would simply resign herself to working near him, maybe even with him, and would take a brush of their hands or a bump on the shoulder when she could. Yes, she would settle for those innocuous touches until she managed to find something else that would suffice.

She raised her hand to her cheek, imagining his hand cupping her face, and how it would feel to have those long smooth fingers caressing the planes of her face, her neck. What a delicious touch that would be.

"Ms. Granger," she was surprised to hear his voice right next to her ear. "I didn't see you at lunch. Were you planning on hiding yourself away in the bowels of this castle forever?"

She started at his statement, both at his closeness and his apparent care for her wellbeing. It was so unlike the pre-war git of a professor she used to know. Perhaps the war had done something good for him after all. Then she saw the apple he proffered and her shock grew.

"I'm quite sorry professor. I simply got carried away in my research. I think I may have an idea. See this passage?" She gestured to the page she had been reading. "I think the same ideas could be applied to the Edelweiss flower. What do you think sir?"

He leaned over her shoulder to read the passage she gestured to, and gently placed a hand on her back, just below her neck. Just to steady himself, she was sure. She watched him mulling over that information. "Edelweiss? Yes… Why didn't I think of that before? It isn't widely known for its magical properties, but I could imagine there must be something to it. I assume you know the supposed qualities of the flower?"

"Yes sir. According to legend the flower it is a way to bring a person luck, because it is so difficult to obtain, that only a rare few are able to reach the tops of the mountains where it naturally grows."

"Quite right. I'm rather impressed your efforts." His face remained impassive, but she could swear she saw his eyes glimmering in a smile. "However, even the most intelligent of researchers needs to eat. Start with this, and perhaps we can persuade a house elf to bring you something else to tide you over until supper."

"Oh, no. The apple is more than enough to last me another hour or so until dinner. But thank you professor." When had he ever brought food to a student before? Maybe there was hope after all.

"I think it would be tolerable for you to call me Severus now. After all, you are no longer my pupil, and it will become rather tedious if we are working together to remain so formal."

"Yes sir – erm Severus. And of course you should call me Hermione."

"Now, Hermione, have you already done the calculations for including the Edelweiss in your potion?"

"Yes of course, and it looks like it should turn out like I thought. I'm just not quite sure how to obtain any. I wonder if I must be the one to actually pluck it from the mountain side in order for the qualities to be what I need that to be. What do you think?"

"I have worked with Edelweiss once before, and if I remember correctly, it should not matter who picks the flower so long as it is gathered by hand and not simply Accioed. I may even know of a shop near Diagon Alley that may be able to obtain some if they do not have it on hand. I'll write them, shall I Hermione?"

"Oh please do!" She was starting to get that giddy feeling from possible success approaching. Or perhaps it was that Severus' hand still rested on her back. Oh, how she reveled in the sound of her name rolling off his tongue, that low silken voice caressing her name in a way she had never heard before. What on earth was going on between them?


	9. Chapter 8

**AN: Hello again loveys! Thank you all so much for your reviews, they're keeping me going as I plow through my inane homework so I can move on to better, more delicious things like the HG/SS relationship that's building! Enjoy!**

Chapter 8

Sometimes, Hermione mused, Severus seemed a bit too old fashioned even for his generation. Not that she minded, it was just very different from outings she had gone on with Harry and Ron in the past. And yet, she was quite content as she strolled down Diagon Alley with her hand tucked in the crook of his elbow. It was an action straight from Jane Austen. He had offered his arm when they reached the apparition point and neither of them moved to separate when they arrived.

She had been surprised when he approached her last Monday with an invitation to join him on a trip to Diagon Alley that weekend, stating he needed to restock on a few supplies and he had heard back from one shop in particular that would indeed have the Edelweiss she needed. He had matched her luminescent smile in his own way – that is, she saw the corners of his mouth twitch up momentarily before returning to their normal impassive state.

Now she found herself walking down the busy street arm in arm with Severus, content to be silent and simply bask in her thoughts – thoughts that were decidedly happier than they had been in a while. Even after a week it still made her stomach flutter as his name sounded in her mind. Perhaps it was the knowledge that their relationship had progressed beyond teacher and student to friendly acquaintances, if not something that bordered on friendship. More importantly, he had been showing her that life went on and hope surfaced in the oddest of places. He had started asking her to help him as he brewed in the evenings. It was simple potions to help Madam Pomfrey replenish her supplies, but their teamwork in brewing was helping her feel less alone and unwanted.

Not that she read anything deeper into their relationship. She knew he was only doing it because he was concerned she would melt something without his supervision, or without her getting decent sleep. That brought her to the other thing she wondered about nearly all the time now. After that night that they had slept hand in hand, he had been as gruff and aloof as ever, but he seemed to be bumping into her more than usual. It was simple things like fingertips brushing as she passed an ingredient, or elbows bumping gently as they worked. But for a man with such practiced, precise movements in everything he did, she knew these small touches were not accidental. The only logical reason she could come up with was that he could relate to the hard times she had been through and sought to offer comfort in his own way. The why behind that, however, she had no idea and it kept her mind spinning. He couldn't possibly be doing it because he cared for her, and yet, she could come up with no other reason. It was either that or preservation of his labs, and she had never seen him extend any sort of calming motions to Neville as he brewed and inevitably melted cauldron after cauldron.

"Hermione," his deep voice drifted out to her from where he was hidden somewhere in the back of the dark potions shop. "I've got your Edelweiss back here. Do you want the fresh or dried?"

She quickly made her way toward his voice, snapped from her thoughts by the excitement of the much needed ingredient for her research. "I think perhaps some of each. I believe the fresh may be better for its strength since some of the other ingredients are awfully powerful on their own, but perhaps the dried flower when ground up will mix into the potion faster, so the strength won't be as necessary."

"I agree on both counts." He handed a small basket and a moistened jar to her so she could pick what she wanted. Her eyes followed him around the room as he carefully selected ingredients. It was such a process to watch as he involved many of his senses to ensure what he selected was only the highest quality. More specifically, it was watching him smell the each item, eyes closed to focus just on the smell from some small herb or flower. His face in those moments was so dramatically different from the scowl he usually wore. Instead, his face relaxed, tension leaving it each time he inhaled deeply. If she didn't know better, she'd almost think he was smiling as he did this. He opened his eyes and caught her watching him and the scowl immediately returned to his face. He hurried to collect the remaining items on his list and ushered her out of the store.

Well, it was nice while it lasted.

As they strolled back down the Alley again, Severus surprised her by once again offering his arm in a gentlemanly fashion. He surprised her even more by the question he asked as they left the store, "Would you like to stop for lunch? We still have some time before we have to return to the school."

Her smile must have been answer enough, since he started to steer her toward a lovely little café. As he pulled the door open, she asked, "Severus, could we please sit outside? It's such a lovely day, and I think we may be running short on such days with the weather changing." He scowled at her but gave in, guiding her to a table tucked in the shadows near the building, a halfway point, it seemed, between sitting out in the sun and inside in the dark. He held out her chair, again falling into his role as gentleman, tucked their bags under the table by her feet, and stalked off – presumably to go in search of either menus or a server.

Hermione leaned back against the chair, reveling in the warmth of the sun radiating on her face.

XXXX

She was still in that position when Severus returned to the table. He paused for a moment, enjoying the small smile that played on her lips as her face soaked up the warm rays shining down on her. Her eyes cracked open as he approached. He had only seen that look in her eyes once before, on a morning he had woken up rather sore with a very numb rear end. It warmed his shriveled heart to see her finally starting to relax. Granted, his efforts this past week must have helped as well. He had made sure to keep her occupied, to brush against her hand, her arm, her back in order to reassure her that she did have one person in her life that understood.

As they ate, Hermione carried the conversation, the sunlight and outing having the effect on her that he had hoped for. Thank goodness his lunch partner had a brain so he wasn't counting the seconds until their meal would end. He relaxed as she chatted happily about a vacation she had once taken to France, "We were all relaxing on the beach, and well, it was such a lovely day – rather like today, except we were on a beach – and my mother managed to fall asleep under our shade. Father and I had gone for a walk and had apparently been gone longer than we realized, because when we returned, mum was still sleeping, only she had rolled over so she was half in the sun, and it looked as if she had been in that position for quite some time. So we wake her up and notice she's got a bright red sunburn. She refused to go out of doors for the next week because she had this line straight down the middle of her face and chest that divided pale white with bright red skin." She giggled at the memory and Severus couldn't help but smile at her obviously happy memory of her parents.

Their conversation progressed, straying mostly toward innocuous topics, and yet he didn't mind, even with such mild subjects she exhibited that she most certainly was not a dunderhead. With whom else could he truly enjoy discussing the nuances of potion making as well as discussions of history and art? He discovered that her parents had been strict taskmasters, though loving, and even vacations had involved many levels of educational experience as well as times for play. How he envied her happy childhood. If only his father would have cared enough to take him on a camping trip or to explore a history museum. He pushed the thought aside. The past was done, and he planned to savor his time sitting at that café with such a lovely, bright young woman.

There was a lull in their conversation, both too contented to force chatter, when Severus cleared his throat gently. "Hermione, I have an offer for you. I know you've remained at Hogwarts to continue your studies in a very general sense, but I'd like to offer you an official position as my protégé. I've got no problem with your continued studies in other subjects, but I see an adequate talent in you that I haven't in many years, and I would hate to see the Wizarding World lose such an asset because of my negligence."

He watched her face, keeping his face studiously impassive, as she processed his statement. A statement which he could tell she was quite flabbergasted by. It made sense; that was more praise than he had dole out in years, if ever. However, she was the brightest witch he had ever taught. She almost rivaled him in her ability to not just learn about, but actually _know_ the ingredients and potions. She had more potential than he'd ever admit to out loud.

He was surprised to find her out of her seat, her arms flung around his neck before he could move to stop her. "Of course Severus, I'd love to! Oh, thank you so much!"

Only she would find the prospect of working closely with him an enjoyable endeavor. He patted her arm awkwardly and was very careful not to let on that he was doing it for himself as well. He would have the opportunity to teach such a brilliant witch his tricks and watch her assimilate it with her knowledge and improve upon it. The prospect of what they could accomplish together was thrilling to him.

And, it didn't hurt, of course, that it would mean he would have a very good excuse to spend hours upon hours in her company. Perhaps in time she would come to see he wasn't such a horrible man after all. Maybe – there was that fluttering of hope in his chest once more – maybe she would come to care for him as he was already starting to care for her. He pushed his thoughts to the side and enjoyed Hermione's arms wrapped around his neck, her lush curls tickling his cheek, and her delightful flowery scent enveloping him.

They sat there unmoving for a long moment and neither noticed a very familiar black haired, green eyed young man stalking their way.


	10. Chapter 9

**AN: So, I know this is one of the shorter chapters I've written, but big things are definitely brewing! As always, I welcome reviews: the good and bad - just don't be ugly!**

Chapter 9

The couple was surprised by the dark, humorless voice that spoke from behind, "Well, well. If it isn't the Death Eater and his whore. I see you've decided to finally go public with your twisted disgusting preferences. Have you no shame Hermione? You used to be the best of the best, and now you're nothing but a common prostitute shared among the scum of society. How could you?"

Hermione gave a small yelp and backed up to the café they had been dining at. Severus felt a rush of anger course through his system. He drew his wand and pointed it at the adolescent's throat. "Potter, that was out of line, even for you. I expect you to apologize immediately."

"What are you going to do Death Eater? I know you received full absolution from the Ministry. Hell, who could have missed that article on your Order of Merlin, _first class_. But that doesn't mean I don't know the real you. Know what you've done. And it all makes sense, seeing you with that whore. You turned her against us while she was chained up in Malfoy Manor, somehow, someway. She hasn't been the same since. And it's all because of you and your despicable Death Eater friends. You wouldn't dare curse me here on a busy street. It would only show the ministry that you aren't the saintly spy for the side of Light you claimed to be."

"I hardly care what the Ministry, or the Daily Prophet for that matter, says about me. It is only for the feelings of your _friend_, who has been alone and completely lost without the friendship of yourself and Weasley, that I will keep myself from hexing you where you stand. Oh lofty _hero_ of the Wizarding World, did you ever check your facts before so wildly accusing your friend of deeds you know nothing about? Or did you simply charge in, wand drawn as you usually do? Did you ever stop to think that perhaps she had changed because of the events of the war, torture she has undoubtedly had trouble dealing with? That hardly makes her a Death Eater. I am not sure what you have been told about Ms. Granger, but did you even bother to check with her?" He watched the anger on Harry's face turn to confusion. "Now, I am taking Ms. Granger away from your presence before you can do any more harm to the poor girl. She's been through quite enough without her _best friend_ accusing her of activity she's never been guilty of." With that he grabbed their bags, tucked a sobbing Hermione gently under his arm, and disapparated with a loud _CRACK_, leaving behind a thoroughly confused Harry Potter.

Severus stood with her outside the castle gates letting her finish having her cry. Odd how standing up for her in so public a manner only served to affirm thoughts he hadn't previously been willing to admit to. There was certainly no turning back now.

XXXX

Hermione knew what was coming.

They had returned to the castle, their lovely afternoon spoiled by her sordid past, and now he was going to toss her aside. He couldn't possibly want an apprentice that was accused of whoring with Death Eaters. He needed to distance himself as much as possible from his past in order to maintain the record of hero he had attained after the war ended. She knew that, it was logical. However, it didn't stop the pain at the realization that she would not only be losing the last friendly figure in her life, but also the one place in the castle she ever felt at home these days. Perhaps it was time for her to move on. Move to an entirely new country. She could do that. She had just enough saved up to start fresh somewhere new. She could confess her past once more – a cleansing purge of memories for her own sake, certainly not for him– watch the disgust build until he exploded, then chuck her things in her trunk and be off. No one would miss her; no one would look for her.

She started almost violently from her thoughts as Severus sat down next to her and asked, "Just to be clear, I did not just make a complete ass of myself, did I?"

She was confused. That didn't sound like an angry or disgusted confrontation. "Why would you think that?"

"Well you could hardly be guilty of the things Potter accused you of. I've spent enough time in your company the last several weeks to know that, even if Potter is too dense to see it. I just wanted to make sure I did not say anything out of line, since I don't actually know what happened. I tried to stay as vague as possible, but I did feel the need to conjecture some, particularly after his mention of your time trapped in the Malfoy Manor." At the mention of that accursed place, he felt her bristle beside him. His voice grew soft as his hand found hers, "Hermione, tell me what happened. Share that heavy burden with me."

It was only then that she was brave enough to look up to his face, and was shocked to find his did not show disgust or repulsion. She felt a flicker of hope. Perhaps he was different; perhaps he wouldn't turn away from her. She certainly already knew that he was vastly different from Harry and Ron, but was he different enough? It was in that moment, seeing the look in his eyes that she decided to bare her soul to him, hoping that the kindness she saw in him was real.

She took a deep breath and looked down, unsure where to begin, but knowing that if she didn't start now, she never would. "I'm not sure how long we were locked down in that cellar room. The darkness was complete, and the walls were well insulated. We had no idea how much time passed, and that horrible anticipation only made things worse.

I remember drifting off, something we all did off and on, and being awoken by a prodding wand and sharp fingers around my arms. I was taken upstairs to another dark room. All I could see was a single ray of light from a covered window." She paused and took another deep breath. Severus gave her hand a small squeeze, but she hardly noticed. She had been sucked in to the power of her memories.

"I don't remember with any clarity what happened next. I just know I was in a room full of Death Eaters. Their laughter bit at me from every direction, much like the curses they threw at me. Then it became more than just curses and hexes. I felt hard leather and metal biting into my skin. My robes were shredded, my body beaten, and they did not stop. I remember my flesh crawling as hands moved over my skin, more pain, more hexes. I don't know what happened from there.

I cannot be more grateful that Dobby came to our aid when he did. I think… No, I know they would have killed me, slowly and as painfully as possible if I had stayed in that house any longer. I am just so sorry he had to pay with his life for such a heroic rescue."

Severus said nothing, just sat with both hands wrapped around her one. She didn't cry audibly, but she could feel the wetness of tears running steadily down her face. But he did not run. He sat there, his unwavering stillness more comforting than she would have guessed.

"You have survived, Hermione. You have lived through things that have broken stronger wizards. I, unfortunately, have been privy to the sorts of things Death Eaters do, so I have an idea what they put you through in order to have their _fun_." He spat the word, and she could tell that he was holding back a more violent reaction. "But the important thing is that you survived."

His vehement statement only served to make her cry harder. He didn't know, wouldn't continue to praise her strength if he knew the full truth.

She braced herself for the one last piece of information that had to be spoken before she could consider her purging thoroughly complete.

"Severus…" her voice came out barely above a whisper. "Severus, there's one more thing. Something that may change your mind." She paused once more; steeling herself for what she knew was about to come out of her mouth, and what his reaction undoubtedly was going to be. "I found out, after that last battle… I found that… well…" His hand gripped hers still, and she tried to pull strength from him to let out this one last statement. "Severus, I found out after the battle was over that I had miscarried sometime during the fight."

She felt him stiffen beside her, his hands clenching hers tightly.


	11. Chapter 10

**AN: Hi there lovely readers! You're in for a treat! Internet problems last night means you get an extra long chapter tonight!**

**On a side note, I love when you review, but please do not ask me to update faster. I'm a university student and I do (try to) have a life, so I will update when I update. That aside, thank you all for your thoughts and support!  
**

Chapter 10

Hermione looked wistfully at the stack of books as she organized them into piles. Some she would have to return to the library, some she would shrink and pack in her trunk. Others, the ones she ran her hands tenderly over, she would place back on the shelves in the laboratory. Severus's books. Books she would likely never see after that day.

She was trying to sort and clear her things as quietly as possible. She wanted to clear out before he woke up, and he was just through the next room, slouched over on the couch in his office fast asleep. She hated to leave him lying like that, knew he would wake up with a rather unpleasant pain in his neck. She also knew that if she woke him, he would be able to tell something was wrong. He would ferret it out of her rather quickly. She knew what a state she was in – which was why she had to hurry before he woke. She couldn't possibly face another angry confrontation; didn't want to see the hurt and disgust in his eyes. She breathed a short sigh, knowing she had dodged a bullet the evening before. He never said anything to her. She could tell what he was thinking, but the shock was too great to say anything, so he simply clutched her hand and let her cry herself out as he stared at the wall opposite. She awoke to find they were much in the same position. The only change was his head, which was now leaning sharply to one side to rest on the back of the couch.

She shook her head and turned back to the task at hand. It certainly wouldn't do to be here when he woke, and she had no idea how soon that would be. She cast another regret filled look at her stacks of notes. She certainly would not have the chance to finish her research as she hid herself away in some foreign country.

An angry voice growled her name from the doorway and she felt her stomach drop.

"What do you think you are doing?" Gone was the genial man she had come to know over the last few weeks. The Potions Master she knew so well was back with a vengeance. She had to stop herself from physically cowering at his voice. The look of shock and fear must have shown on her face. His voice was as deep and silky as she remembered, and deadly quiet. It was a tone she had very rarely heard him use.

She tried to keep the quiver from her voice as she answered, "I'm packing, sir."

"Any dunderhead could see that. Why are you packing?"

"I'm leaving sir. I know you won't want my person or my belongings mucking up your space now that you know what I've done."

"Done? What have you done?"

She was confused. Did he forget the conversation they had last night, the one in which she admitted she had become pregnant by a Death Eater, was a whore? "I thought my explanation last night was rather clear. I'm a… tainted soul, and I understand why you wouldn't want me around anymore."

He made a noise of disgust from deep in his throat. "Tainted?" His voice softened, "Hermione, you are hardly one I would call tainted. If anything I should hold that title after all I've seen and done. You are one of the purest souls I know."

"But – but – You never said… You just sat there and I thought…"

By this point he had started making his way slowly across the room, running a hand nervously through his already mussed hair. "I couldn't. I was blown away Hermione. I could not believe that someone as good as you, someone who has been through so much, has managed to survive that ordeal and come out the other side as whole as you have.

All of us that fought, Dark or Light, bear the scars. It is those of the Light that tend to bear those scars harder; who find those travesties more challenging to cope with. And you, my dear, have much more than most to overcome. I, unfortunately, know precisely the sorts of things a group of Death Eaters are wont to do with a Muggle born young lady. And I will not assault your ears with even the shortest description. Needless to say, I hold you in even greater respect for surviving – much more even than Potter, who managed to defeat the Dark Lord. His battle was one of sheer strength of will. Yours is a battle of the mind – you will bear the memories of what happened for as long as you live, but your biggest battle will be to not let those memories rule what you will do with your life." He paused, and it was at that moment that Hermione felt the tension ease in her shoulders and her hands unclench. It was only because his hands had come to cup her face, his thumbs gently caressing her cheeks that she started to relax.

He looked at her, brought her gaze to his and continued, "I did not speak last night because I could not. I had to think on what my actions would be. Because I knew I could not let you continue to suffer your thoughts alone, but I also know from experience that _you_ must be the one to overcome the power those memories hold on you. I want nothing more than to wrap you safely in my arms until the end of days, but you are a great witch Hermione, and I cannot simply let you fade into the needy coddled shadow of a witch that would lead to. No, you must deal with those memories yourself. However, I will remain by your side if you wish, to comfort you when they start to take control, to give you what strength I can to continue your fight." He swiped gently at the tears she wasn't aware were coursing down her cheeks.

At that moment the world faded away. She looked deep into his eyes and saw the world being handed to her from the most unexpected of sources. This man, this wonderful, brave, sarcastic, handsome man cared about her, wanted to help her. More importantly, he didn't want to fix her, he just wanted to be there for her. That was a distinct difference from Ron, who had stared at her like she was the devil incarnate and not even tried to understand what she had been through, what she lived with on a daily basis. Severus understood. He had his own demons to battle, so he understood what she went through every day when she woke from nightmares or tried to avoid sleep to avoid the reminders that constantly plagued her. It was at that moment that she knew she had come home for the first time in at least a year.

She looked up at him, saw the raw emotion there, and didn't hesitate. She turned her chin up at him, rose on her toes, and pressed her lips gently against his. She was not surprised after such a moving speech when his lips firmly pressed back. One hand slipped around her waist and pulled her the remaining inches to be flush against him, the other still cupping her cheek. Her hands drifted of their own accord – she honestly couldn't remember commanding them to move – inside his robes to wrap around to his back. She broke the kiss to look up at him once more, then nestled herself comfortably against his chest, utterly content.

XXXX

What was he thinking? He had meant to only go in and reassure her that she wasn't a horrid person and that she should not worry about what others said about her. How had he managed to turn a simple reassuring statement into a declaration of some feeling – if one didn't know him better, it would almost sound like a declaration of love. It was Severus Snape though, and no one thought him capable of caring about let alone actually being able to love someone. No one was that fool hardy.

And yet… the speech poured from him with a fervor even he didn't know he possessed, and it actually felt right. Then again, her reaction didn't hurt. Having the young woman wrapped in his arms, he realized what a perfect fit she was. Her head reached just under his chin, and her hair – delicious smelling curls now rather than the bushy mess it had been when she was a student – was soft against his cheek as he tilted his head to rest gently on hers. He basked in the feeling of complete contentment that surrounded him as he stood there with his arms wrapped around _his_ lovely courageous know-it-all.

On second thought, he wasn't surprised by his speech at all. He had been unwilling to admit to himself how deep his feelings for her ran, but his heart had other ideas. Perhaps he should listen to his heart more. He hadn't felt quite so _happy_ in a while. Happy – what an utterly inadequate word it was to describe how he felt. He wasn't quite sure what did it, but the demon of the dungeons had been won over by a chit of a girl; one that had plagued him with questions to the point he could have screamed in frustration for six years. He had many regrets in his life, but at that moment, his biggest regret was knowing he had taunted her to tears before. And now… Now he would make it up to her. His mission in life – and he had been so lost when he had been without one over the past year – was to make her future negate the horrid events of her past.

Loathe as he was to break the magical moment they were sharing, he knew his stomach was going to break it for them momentarily. He gently shifted upright and said, "Come, my dear. I believe it is time for us to break our nightlong fast."

Her sweet giggle only endeared her more to him. "Severus, that was positively poetic coming from you. Is this yet another side of you I've not yet seen?"

He growled good naturedly, "Hardly, you witch. I am nothing but the wicked Potions Professor of the dungeons, and you'd do your best not to forget it." Her giggle sounded once more, and that wonderful sound was irresistible to him. He swooped down like the bat everyone purported him to be, and stole a kiss from her unsuspecting lips.

"Very well, _Professor_," she teased, "If that's the sort of treatment I'll get, I certainly shan't let on about such a torrid secret. Heaven forbid anyone find out you have a softer side."

"I shudder to think what students would do if they ever found out. My reputation would be in tatters. That is, if you could find anyone who would believe it. Even the first years are sufficiently terrified of me by now, and I intend to keep it that way."

"But why? You're much more pleasant when you're not being a git."

"Think Hermione. What would happen to them if I had a classroom full of laughing, gossiping dunderheads? It's hard enough to keep them in line and their potions only slightly dangerous when I have their rapt attention."

"Oh. Of course."

"Don't worry; I have enough knowledge of your abilities that you will not be included in that grouping of idiots that I must keep in line through fear and thinly veiled threats of detentions."

She smirked at him, "Really, you don't plan on keeping me in line, then?"

"Hardly. I'm not sure anyone could do that. You're much too…spirited." It was his turn then to smirk as he watched the playful indignation on her face. Before she could protest he spoke up, "You know it is true. And I could hardly have you any other way. You wouldn't be nearly as interesting a companion without that fiery zeal you carry as a torch with you in everything you do. I'm just glad you finally found that fire again, after letting it dim so near extinction after the war."

She was quiet for a moment. "Thank you Severus." She reached up and placed a soft kiss on the tip of his nose then let out a light laugh. "Who would have thought, the Gryffindor know-it-all joining the Slytherin scourge of the dungeons in his sitting room for breakfast."

"Now that you mention it…we certainly can't have that. Right, out you get you horrid Gryffindor."

XXXX

His smirk was the closest think Hermione had ever seen to a smile. It was amazing what a lighthearted expression did for his countenance. She studied him as he busied himself with preparing plates. His face was relaxed, making him look far younger than he usually did when he wore his usual unhappy snarl. His eyes, she knew, were amazingly bright considering how dark a brown they were. His nose, well…it was unlikely she would ever call that feature handsome, but it fit his oval face and gave him a character men with ordinary noses lacked. She would certainly have to bring him to a smile more often – or at least a happy smirk. It changed his whole appearance, and she could see why Lily Evans-Potter had been his friend in their youth.

It was rather disconcerting to see him so attentive to her. He had settled her on the couch, started her with a cup of tea, and set about ensuring she did not want for anything. She hated to see the house elves in the kitchen put out so, but it was worth it to see Severus in such a radically different role from brooding professor. It was sweet. Not that she would ever call him sweet to his face. That he certainly would not stand for. But she would find other ways to let him know she appreciated his ability to drag her thoughts out of the dark crevices of her mind.

He turned to face her and she couldn't hold in a snort, "Severus, do you honestly think I could eat all that? I'm not sure half the Gryffindor quidditch team could eat all that." She watched him glance with chagrin at the plate piled with food.

"I, er, suppose I did get rather carried away. You need to eat more though. You're so thin I could probably snap you with a harsh enough look."

"You could snap many students with a mere look, _professor_. However, I will concede that I have been a bit lax about getting my 'three squares' daily."

"What, pray tell, do three squares have to do with your eating habits?"

"Oh, must be a Muggle thing. They say one must eat three square meals a day to be healthy. I'm not sure where the squares came from, but it is intended to describe three healthy meals that include the major food groups: meat, vegetables, grains… that sort of thing."

"I…see. I shall take your word about the squares. Now, do eat before it gets cold. I know how you would hate to have put the house elves to work for naught." He caught the look she threw in his direction. "You think I do not remember that spew thing you were pushing in your fourth year? It was an admirable effort, even if rather pointless."

"It was hardly pointless!"

"Really? Then why do you not continue to crusade for elf rights?"

"Well… I supposed I realized that most of them were quite content as they were. It's only the rare case like Dobby that was so unhappy in his service that he desired freedom. And, well, Dobby is rather odd."

"He certainly is that." He paused midway through a bite of egg. "You really are a bright witch, even if it takes you a bit of time to catch on to the erm, quirks of others."

She smacked him lightly on the arm, indignant. "I enjoy learning, and I do know I can be rather methodical in doing so, but that doesn't mean I'm inept."

"Of course you aren't. I only meant that sometimes you are rather…literal in your thinking. Perhaps some poetry would serve you well."

She smirked. Who knew Severus Snape had such a quixotic nature buried under that scowling, angry exterior. She set her half covered plate down and moved closer, rested her hand on his leg, and continued to sip her tea.


	12. Chapter 11

**AN: Ok loveys, this is going to be one crazy week for me, so prepare yourselves now! I've got a trip coming up and I can't take my poor retarded laptop so I will try to get a few longer chapters uploaded for you, but I unfortunately can't make any promises on that front, so I beg your indulgence of my hectic schedule. **

**As always, thank you ever so much for reading! Let me know what you think!  
**

Chapter 11

As they strolled around the lake, Severus marveled again at the seemingly miraculous change that had been wrought in his companion. Since that fateful confession, she had been positively radiating happiness. It was almost enough to make one sick, except it a vast improvement to the ghostly Hermione that had existed for over a year. If it had been anyone other than his strong lovely witch, he would have been more than annoyed at her chatter and her near constant presence. That thought surprised him. He wasn't quite sure when he had started thinking of Hermione as _his_ witch, but it suited. For all her lively spirit, she was a proper balance to him; more so than any other witch he'd ever come across. In the weeks since their talk, his protective shell had eased wide enough to encompass them both. The knowledge that he could tolerate her vivaciousness told him that he certainly did not plan on letting go of her any time soon. Knowing that he missed her chatter and near constant company just moments after she left the room… Well, now he was just getting too sentimental.

They walked around the lake with her hand tucked against his elbow, his other hand rested on top of hers and his fingertips sketched thoughts across the back of her hand. It felt surreal, having such a witch with such a beautiful spirit actually caring about him. For as much as he had to prod her to eat timely meals, she in turn made sure he did not stay up half the night caught up in some journal or grading work, letting himself get increasingly perturbed by the disgusting quality of work students turned in. She was good for him.

He was glad he had the liberty now to actually think of a life with her, one that he did not fear being cut short by the Dark Lord. No, he had been there once and only barely managed to scrape by. With those fears as dead as the Dark lord, Severus was learning slowly to embrace the knowledge that for the first time in over two decades he had a future ahead of him. A future enhance by Hermione. He supposed he was luckier than most to have found a witch that so obviously reciprocated his feelings, though she was a bit more erm, _demonstrative_ than he ever would be. Loathe as he was to think about his next course of action, it was time.

He broke the comfortable silence between them to ask, "Hermione, where are your parents?"

"I do believe they're still in Australia. They have been since the summer after my sixth year, where I sent them to safely wait out the war."

"What are they doing there? Don't they know it is safe to return now?"

"For all I know, they're still working as dentists in a small town near Sidney. And yes, they do know. But they are rather upset with me. I not only sent them to Australia, I also wiped myself from their memory, in case something happened to me. I didn't want them living their lives in fear and misery if I had died or the war dragged on for years. So I managed to fix the hidden memories and, well… they haven't exactly forgiven me for wiping myself from their minds for that year. I just wanted to make sure they were safe, but they can't seem to see that. Their frustration over having my magic used against them overwhelmed my good intentions. I just don't know what else I can do to convince them that I only meant to help."

"You did the right thing, and they should see that eventually. It may just take time to get over their shock to be able to see your intentions."

She rested her head against his arm and was quiet for a long moment. In a quiet voice she replied, "I certainly hope so. I miss them."

He planted a kiss on top of her soft curls. "Don't worry my dear; we shall bring them 'round, even if I have to hex them once or twice to move the process along." His voice was full of the same grave seriousness that he usually maintained for his lessons. One glance at the smirk on his face confirmed that he was being facetious. Well, mostly. It appeared he would have to go on a small trip soon.

XXXX

While their walk was quite pleasant, Hermione had things weighing heavily on her mind. She hadn't mentioned it to Severus yet, but Harry had sent her a note earlier that week. She wanted to write back immediately and tell him what he could do with his questions, but she forced herself to put off her response until she was in a better frame of mind. She was still waiting for that frame of mind to come. Talking to Severus had certainly helped her put everything in perspective. She felt less horrible about herself in regard to what had been done to her. Thanks to him, she knew now that she could hardly be at fault for something she had been violently forced into, very much against her will. After a similar talk with Ron, she had felt responsible for everything done to her, not the victim. But, as Severus pointed out, Death Eaters certainly did not give one the option of being tortured or how it was to be done. Hermione just did not know how to best convey that information to Harry without subsequently being drowned by his pity. She didn't want pity, just understanding and an end to the complete silence her former friends imposed. Maybe the problem was trying to find the words to explain in a letter what could only be said the right way in person.

He was quiet, thoughtful, and most importantly, peaceful and she hated to interrupt that. But she did anyway. "Severus?"

"Hmmm?"

"I think I need to go visit Harry."

"Really? I assumed after our last little discourse with him, he made his feelings rather obvious. Why would you wish to visit him?"

"Well, he sent me a note and wanted to talk about things firsthand. He wanted to see if he did not perhaps get the whole story from Ron. I just… I can't write back a sufficient answer. I have to talk to him if I want him to really understand, and not just know the events and pity me for them. I hardly want pity. I just want my friends back."

"I quite understand. If you think that is the best course of action, then I would suggest you do so. I realize I am not the best substitute of friendship for a young woman such as you."

"Severus, don't be daft. You're just right for me, regardless of your age. I will admit I miss having Ginny to talk to on occasion and have that female companionship every girl needs. And I do miss Harry and Ron, mostly because they've been my best friends for ages. Whether or not I go back to a close friendship with the boys, I do want to at the very least get over the hard feelings caused by misconceptions." She paused for a moment and gave a small delicate snort. "Really Severus, after the last month can you honestly say you think I don't care about you as more than just a potion brewing companion? You've more common sense than that."

"I know. I do wonder sometimes if you will one day realize how that I've only been a placeholder until your other friends come back, but I am mostly convinced that won't happen."

She grinned and slid her hands into the opening of his robes, "What would it take to ensure that you are fully convinced?" Her hands continued their journey up his chest and neck to draw his head down to hers and she kissed him soundly.

After a moment he pulled back and muttered, "Minx."

XXXX

Hermione had gone to meet Harry, so Severus had to hurry along his journey to make his mission successful and return without her noticing. He pulled the slip of paper from his pocket and checked the address once more. This was the correct house.

He strode up the walk and knocked twice on the door. It was answered by a woman with brown hair that was very reminiscent of a certain young lady he knew. There was certainly no doubt that this was the right residence. He watched as she eyed him curiously, and he was suddenly glad he had thought to leave his robes behind, even if his coat was slightly conspicuous in muggle Australia.

"Can I help you?"

"Yes, you can. My name is Severus Snape, and I have come to ask you and your husband if I may court your daughter. Might I come in?"

XXXX

Harry sat back, a look of shock still in residence on his face. Well, he certainly was taking this better than Ron had. At this point Ron had been vehemently protesting her attempts to reach out to him, yelling obscenities at her, and well… it certainly had not been one of her favorite moments. Harry was already reacting differently, thank goodness. Hermione realized the efforts Severus had put in to help her feel more confident about herself, particularly in regards to that horrible day and Ron's reaction, and it would have crushed her infinitely more to have a second friend so completely reject her, regardless of her newer view of those vicious events. She was able to logically see now that it wasn't her fault, but that didn't mean her friends would view her as any less of a monster, choice or no choice.

Finally, Harry spoke, "God, 'Mione, I was such a git that day at the café. From the way Ron told it, he made it sound like you enjoyed it and planned to take up with the Death Eaters except they lost the war. How could I have believed him? I mean, that is definitely not like you. I wonder what was up with him..."

Harry trailed off as Hermione threw her arms around his neck. "Oh thank goodness! Harry, I was so worried you would think me a horrid person as well! I'm so glad you aren't daft enough to think I actually enjoyed that day. I live with the nightmares daily, and it's so hard to fight off the terror they still bring."

"How do you do it? How do you keep from going insane?"

"Well, it was certainly hard. I didn't sleep for more than an hour or two at a time until Severus finally convinced me to talk to him. Now, well it's still hard, and I still wake up to the nightmares quite often, but I know I can go read in Severus' study to calm myself."

Harry's cheeks reddened as he asked, "So you two really are erm…?"

It was Hermione's turn to blush at that. "Yes. I'm not quite sure how to put in to words what we are, but I do care for him. I think… You're going to think I'm a loony after how he treated us for years, but he's so different with me now that, well, I think I'm falling in love with him."

"Well, erm… I can't say I'm thrilled about that, but I will admit that he was there for you when none of the rest of us were. So I can't say I like it, but I won't say anything bad about him, because he did something for you none of the rest of us even tried to do. And, well, he certainly looked different that day at the café. I swear he was almost smiling before he saw me. Are you certain he's not… I don't know, using you for something?"

"Harry, we aren't _lovers_! Sure, we do kiss and such, but he's never been anything less than a gentleman toward me."

"If you're sure 'Mione, then I'll let it be. But you let me know if he tries anything and I'll hex him into next week."

She smiled at that. It was good to have her old friend back.

"Harry, could you talk to Ginny and Ron? See if you can turn their opinions around as well? I'd try but I'm not sure Ron would even speak to me."

"I'll try, but he really is being a stubborn git about it all. I tried to talk to him again before I wrote you, and he just clammed up. And Ginny, well, she trusts me so she'll listen, I'm sure of it."

The hole in Hermione's life was starting to mend in a way that Severus could have never fully helped. "Thanks Harry!"

"Oh, and I'll be sure to talk to Mrs. Weasley. She'll be sure to want you over for Christmas once she knows the truth. And it wouldn't be Christmas without you 'Mione."

She hugged him once more, glad that heavy conversation was over with. "So how are you and Ginny getting along these days?" she asked with a grin. Harry's answering smile said everything. Her childhood friend was in love, and she couldn't be happier for him.


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Severus Snape was the most surprising of men. That horrid day when she had emptied her soul had changed their relationship drastically and, Hermione was certain, Severus had never been like this with anyone else. He had taken to kissing her any chance he got, including stealing a moment with her if she happened to fetch something from his storeroom while he was teaching. Not that she was complaining. At the very least it made him very slightly less of a git to his classes.

As his assistant, she got to spend a good amount of her day with him, and in the moments that he was called away, she felt his absence immediately and deeply. It was astonishing how much she had come to care for him in the weeks since that day of revelation. Just that moment, he was sitting in a staff meeting – one he looked forward to with the same joy Neville Longbottom had looked forward to going to Potions class, Severus had told her – and Hermione felt the distance. He was still within the castle, and Hermione made sure to busy herself with some brewing in preparation for a later class to pass the time until he returned.

A hand whispered through her hair followed lips at her neck. A little thrill coursed from that spot to the very tips of her fingers and toes. Her involuntary longing for his presence dissipated as she felt his hands wrap round her waist. She leaned back into his chest. His kisses were far too distracting.

"Severus! You shall make me forget my potion."

"I must say, you catch on fast, my dear." His sarcasm was ever present, though it lacked the bite it carried when he spoke to students. "That was entirely my intent." She giggled at the newer, much more relaxed Severus who was willing to infer – as well as show - his feelings for her.

"Hermione!" A voice that was far too feminine to be Severus called out from across the room. She turned and saw Ginny Weasley standing in the doorway of the classroom. "Sorry if I'm interrupting things but McGonagall said you were probably down here. Harry explained everything and I had to rush over to apologize. Oh, Hermione I was absolutely horrible to you!"

Severus leaned down and quietly told Hermione, "My study is free if you should like to speak with Ms. Weasley in a more private setting." He gave Ginny a nod as Hermione led her to the study.

Once there, she and Ginny sat on that now familiar couch and Ginny spilled everything that was weighing on her mind. "Oh, Hermione, I am so very very sorry. I can't believe I ever thought what Ron said about you was true! I know you'd never become a Death Eater, or even involved with one. I don't know how I ever believed Ron, except he came home so angry and all he would do is yell about how you were a Death Eater's whore and he never wanted to hear your name again. He just seemed… Well, that's just excuses, and I'm sorry Hermione. Particularly since Harry said you still have nightmares nearly every night. God, that must be awful, having to relive that over and over again. I don't know how you've survived all this time with no one to talk to and nothing to take those memories away. How have you not had a complete breakdown? Merlin's great white beard, Hermione, you're… I don't even know. I'm amazed you're still going on after a year of this. That's more than rough." She was starting to make Hermione blush. She had expected pity, but she certainly hadn't expected to be venerated for what had simply been mere survival.

"I live with it because I have no other choice."

"Tell me, what has it been like? Harry said you've been doing just horrible all alone, but he didn't elaborate."

"Well, until a few weeks ago I hardly slept more than an hour or two at a go, and never at night. The dark always makes it worse. It was so dark in that bloody room and sleeping in the dark makes it much harder to snap out of the dreams about it. At least they aren't so frequent anymore."

"Harry mentioned that as well. He said you were doing better, but he didn't say why. What's happened that helped? Maybe we can find a way to build on it to make the nightmares go away entirely!"

Hermione had to give a bit of a laugh at her choice of words. "Funny you said that Gin. It's not so much a what, but a who that has helped me."

Ginny paused at that, finally silent for a long moment. "So… Snape? You two did look awfully cozy when I walked in, but I thought he was just helping with a potion or something. But I suppose we are in his private study. How on earth did that happen Hermione? I thought you hated Snape! We all did when he was our teacher."

"I might have been scared of him at one point, but he and I have been working in his labs since classes started up in September. He moved me in there to get out of the way of the students, and at first we hardly spoke. But I fell asleep in there one night and I woke him up with one of my nightmares. He was kind enough to suggest a book so boring even I couldn't read it without falling asleep, and that helped some. But it wasn't until Harry saw us in Diagon Alley and verbally attacked me that Severus talked me in to telling him everything. It was so helpful to tell someone and not be attacked. And Ginny, he was so wonderfully kind to me that night, he sat there and held my hand to comfort me, and I haven't slept that well in ages. And he told me, in his own way, that he cares for me and that he wants to be there to help me through it all. He's just so different from when we were students. He's so intelligent and so kind, and he tries to take care of me; he makes sure I eat regularly and talks to me on my worse nights, even if I keep him up until dawn when he has classes to teach."

"Wow. What have you done with the former terror of the dungeons?" Ginny teased. "I'm glad that you're happy Hermione. Really glad, after what was done to you. And I can understand how he could help you. Especially sitting up talking and listening to _that_ voice? For as much as I ever feared him, I could listen to that voice for ages." She gave an awkward giggle that Hermione joined her in.

"He certainly does that. It's even better when he's not trying to scare you to death." Better than that, it was nice that her friend was trying to understand rather than judge.

Ginny smiled and, after a slight pause, jumped topics, "So listen, Harry didn't just talk to me, he talked to the whole family. He didn't tell them everything about the miscarriage and all. He just told them you were tortured and Ron just got things horribly mixed up. And Mum feels as bad as I do. Everybody does for cutting you out for over a year. She wants you to come over for a big family dinner. Bring Professor Snape if you'd like. I just know Mum wants to apologize, and that's her way."

"Of course I'll come," she paused as a thought struck. "Wait… Will Ron be there?"

Ginny paused, obviously torn between convincing her friend to come to dinner and telling her the one thing that would definitely deter her. "He might. Harry is going to try to talk to him, and if it goes alright Ron will be there, if not we'll get rid of him somehow. We wouldn't put you through that if he didn't understand."

"Thanks Gin. Just let me know how things go with Ron so I know what to expect before I come over."

Hard topics out of the way, Hermione sat back and enjoyed the refreshingly female conversation that ensued.

XXXX

She had left the door open. Severus couldn't help but wonder if she had done that on purpose. He tried hard – well at least he tried – to avoid listening in. Any good intentions went out the window when he heard his name. It had been gratifying to hear that Hermione appreciated his efforts. More interesting had been the girls' shared feelings about his voice. He had always known it was an effective tool for persuasion, instilling fear, conveying anger and any other number of unpleasant emotions. He had never realized that it could work in his favor in such a positive manner. He smirked at the thought of ways he could tantalize Hermione with that knowledge.

He listened toward the doorway once more, and heard nothing. Perhaps she was walking Ginevra out now. He wasn't expecting Hermione's hands to snake around his waist as she asked, "How much did you hear?"

He made a studied effort to make his voice the silkiest he could, "Enough."

Her response was a little shiver of pleasure. "Ah, I see you heard Ginny's comment. I meant what I said, by the way." To pay him back for the little thrill with his voice, she sent him a sultry smile that made him want to do delicious things to her. He had to quell that particular desire. As much as he was sure she would enjoy it, he wanted to do things right by her. She was no fling; he would make this last as long as she let it, and he would not mess anything up by pushing boundaries too quickly. He was a gentleman after all. But she was damned distracting with that little smile and her fingers tracing her fingers across his chest.

"What else did you hear?"

"I heard most of your conversation. You are surprisingly loud when you are with Ms. Weasley. Or perhaps I'm just used to picking up others' conversations. I will admit it's a habit that is hard to break after twenty years of alternating between teaching and my other outside work."

"I think you were just curious what ladies talk about when there aren't any men present. That aside, I assume you heard the invitation to the Weasleys' for dinner?"

"I may have picked up something along those lines."

"I want you to come with me." He watched her stare him down expectantly.

"Absolutely not. I will not subject myself to a house full of loud nosy Weasleys for an entire evening."

"Please Severus? I want you there for moral support."

"I hardly think a witch like you needs a brooding, sarcastic, and widely hated man for moral support. If anything I would serve as a distraction for you."

"Perhaps I want to be distracted." There was that sultry smile again. Bloody minx. "Really though Severus, I want my friends to be accepting of our relationship. I refuse to treat you as my dirty little secret. And the first step there is to appear as a couple to my friends."

Damn. She had him there. And he had just been thinking about being a gentleman for her to make their relationship a lasting one. Oh, but he hated such cheerful, loud gatherings. He always felt entirely out of place. Even someone as generally welcoming and motherly as Molly Weasley could not help that. Hermione, however, she was different. She would serve as a grounding point for him. So long as he kept near her – which, he had to admit to himself, had become second nature to him by then – he would be adequate company.

He was still slightly stunned by her admission. "You're sure you want to make so public a declaration the same night that everyone is focusing on the traumatic things that happened to you?"

"I really don't care if they are focusing on my sparkly red knickers. I want them to accept us, since I don't plan on letting you get away now that I have you. If they happen to have other things to focus on, well, I'll use it to our advantage."

"Alright."

"Alright? I was expecting you to put up more of a fight. I was prepared to have to do some persuading to talk you into this."

"I can hold out longer if that is what you wish," he teased.

The hands that had been idly roaming his chest wrapped round his neck. "I think I'll settle for telling you thank you instead." She proceeded to give him a kiss that could have knocked his socks off if it weren't for the presence of his shoes. Perhaps he should stop wearing shoes around her.


	14. Chapter 13

**AN: Hello loveys! I'm off on a mini trip, so hopefully this will tide you over until I get back to my computer and can post some more!**

Chapter 13

Hermione nervously brushed her skirt as she waited for Severus to make his appearance. She shifted in the uncomfortable heels, wondering how she was going to make it through the entire evening in them. The option of ditching her heels for a more comfortable pair of flats was not in the cards. She was planning on her outfit – a decidedly dressier look than she would usually wear to a Weasley dinner – working as a decoy for the stir she was likely to cause when she appeared with Severus. That, coupled with the general nervous excitement of an entire family trying to apologize for a year of wretched behavior should make the other shock of the evening a little less, well, shocking.

"You look quite nice, my dear. You should wear skirts more often." Severus appeared to interrupt her fidgeting and worrying, and managed to wipe away a good deal of her nervousness with his praise coupled with a hair-curling kiss. "I particularly approve of that shade of green. However, you realize that will only work for a moment?"

Trust him to see right through to her true intentions. "I'll take the distraction for as long as I can get it. And perhaps it will help distract from certain differences in my appearance from the last time they saw me."

"You look just fine; you need not worry about what the clan of Weasleys will think." He gave her a swift kiss. "Are you ready to leave?"

She gave a nervous sigh, allowing her nerves to show through for a moment. "I suppose." They walked across the grounds and in a blink they were standing in front of the Burrow. It was now or never.

Her last moment of peace was snatched when Mrs. Weasley opened the door and immediately enveloped her in a suffocating embrace. Once she and Severus had been ushered in the house, Mrs. Weasley only giving him a short sideways glance, she began an effusive apology; one rather similar to the sort she had received from Ginny. With the noise she was making, Mrs. Weasley managed to get the attention of the rest of the clan, and soon Hermione was surrounded by a cacophony of apologetic Weasleys. Why on earth had she ever agreed to this?

She had been moments away from buckling under the pressure when she felt Severus' hand on her lower back. His silent support gave her the surge of strength she needed to call the group to order, "Everyone, please, just stop." It took a moment before they all fell silent and she could continue, "I didn't come here out of some perverse need to hear you all apologize. I came here for the friendships I've been missing. Please don't apologize any more, let's just enjoy the evening."

After a silent pause, Mrs. Weasley quietly spoke up, "Hermione, did you happen to think that perhaps we're not apologizing just for you? We all feel wretched for ignoring you and forcing you to cope with such horrible memories alone. Yes, we do want to apologize so you know how badly we feel, but we also need to apologize help ease those guilty feelings. If it was anyone other than Ron, we would never have believed it, but it was him so we were horrid to you for far too long."

"Mrs. Weasley, please don't feel too guilty. Yes, it has been a hard year but I've been doing much better lately, and I feel better just knowing that I am not a pariah anymore."

Her statement seemed to trigger something among the group. Where Severus had been nearly invisible up to that moment, as soon as Hermione was done speaking, all eyes snapped to him. With reddened cheeks Hermione told the group, "Erm, yes, Severus is the main reason that I am the reasonably well adjusted individual you see before you." From his position directly behind her, Severus reached forward and grasped her hand as the entire group broke out in a loud mass of undistinguishable sentences.

XXXX

Their questions seemed to go on forever, particularly from Molly Weasley. Apparently the woman had taken it into her head to make up for a year of mothering in a single evening. They made it through dinner, and were now seated comfortably around the living room, still being peppered with questions. Fortunately, Molly's questions were slowing, and the rest of the group, Harry in particular, seemed to be trying hard to steer the conversation away from their newly disclosed status. Currently Harry was regaling everyone with a rather entertaining tale of his time spent in Sweden. Severus took a moment to survey the group. He never thought he would say, or even think it, but he was glad he could experience an evening in the Weasleys' warm home when there was no danger looming to taint it. Not quite so surprising was how comfortable he felt sitting on their sofa. That was owed in large part to the lovely lady sitting beside him who currently had her hand nestled against his forearm. It was a touch he treasured on a spot he thought he would never want another human to touch after the Dark Lord fell. Now he was realizing that he wanted to feel her caress everywhere, even on the scars that brought to mind the darkest of his memories.

Speaking of dark memories…it appeared that Ronald had not been entirely receptive to Harry's chat with him, as he was not present. He only hoped that the imbecile boy would come round eventually. For some unknown reason, his Hermione seemed to value his former friendship. If the boy remained as obstinate as Severus suspected, he could only wish that Hermione would let go of her hopes sooner rather than later.

He was brought back to the present conversation – apparently concerning Charlie, who had returned to Romania a few months previously – when Hermione rested her head against his shoulder. As comfortable as that was, it appeared to be time to extricate them from the conversation and return to Hogwarts. He turned toward Hermione and felt a hex fly close to his head. In everyone's comfort, their guard had dropped to the point that no one noticed when Ronald made an appearance. Severus stood abruptly, wand drawn, advancing on the idiotic boy before anyone else in the room could react. He was surprised when Hermione slipped past him and put a hand out to stop him.

"Severus, don't. If you hex him now, you're no better than he is. I want this idiotic misunderstanding cleared up without violence." Severus lowered his wand and Hermione turned back toward Ron. Neither had enough time to react as Ron flung another curse, this one hitting Hermione dead center in the chest. It felt as if the world had slowed itself down as she fell, catching her head on a sturdy side table as she fell. Severus managed to catch her before she hit the floor, but the damage had already been done. His Hermione was an unconscious, bleeding heap on his lap. He could hear Ronald shouting at them both, but Severus paid him no mind. He could feel the room full of people cluster around him and Hermione, but his focus was on stemming the blood gushing from the cut on the back of her head as well as the gash that now appeared on her chest, soaking through what had been an attractive jumper. As soon as he had managed to perform the counter-curse to his own damned spell and stop the bleeding from her head, he lifted her and apparated as close as he could get to the castle. With a group that included Harry Potter and every Weasley but Charlie, he was certain that they would manage to contain one senseless stupid boy.

Severus was more concerned with protecting the life of the woman he loved. In the eternal moments that it took him to walk across the grounds and down to his dungeon quarters, he knew unequivocally that the thought he had been avoiding for the last several months could be ignored no longer. He loved Hermione Granger and he was determined to protect her, even if it meant locking her in the dungeon to keep her from the imbeciles running rampant out in the world.

He was jolted awake by Hermione's screams coming from across the room. From his position in a chair in the corner of the room, the problem was apparent immediately; the fire in the grate had gone out. He flicked his wand to light it as he strode to his bed, barely taking the time to ensure there was a roaring fire, and moved to where the battered Ms. Granger had been sleeping. He called her name softly, gently trying to pull her from the nightmare. She was awake, but obviously not coherent. He sat on the edge of the bed and reached out to her, only to have her shrink away from his hand. He had become so accustomed to her seeking him out after a bad night that it shocked him to see her pull away.

"Hermione, it's only me, it's Severus. I need you to wake up now." He made sure to speak quietly, hoping her previously professed enjoyment of his voice would work to his advantage. "Hermione, look at me. I'm not going to hurt you. I love you." She turned to look at him, eyes finally seeing, and finally she reached out toward him, smarting as the movement jarred her still wounded chest.

He inched closer to her on the bed, going slowly to ensure it would not frighten her as she returned to reality. She tried to roll toward him and gasped as her wound shifted painfully.

"Don't move love. You have a bit of an injury and I don't want you straining yourself."

"Injury? From what?" It seems that blow to her head might have given her a bit of memory damage as well. He smoothed a hand over her hair and attempted to check her head wound without her noticing. The bandage he placed back there felt dry.

"Do you remember Ronald Weasley appearing at the end of our evening?"

"Yes, of course. I…. Oh, I see. He attacked me, didn't he?

"Yes, he caught you with sectumsempra directly across your chest, and I am sorry to say I was not fast enough to catch you before you hit your head on a side table."

"It's alright Severus. Even you can't be perfect." Her voice was quiet and her attempt at a smile did not quite make it to his eyes, but he could hear her becoming more lucid as the moments passed. "Severus, it hurts."

"I know, love. I healed it as much as possible, but it will twinge for a few days."

"Not like that. You know what I mean."

Oh. Of course. He should have guessed that that particular spell would bring back certain memories with a fiery vengeance. "I'm sorry. I wish I could take away those thoughts, but I can't."

"Lie down with me? It's always better when you're near." She sounded so hurt, so very weak. He reveled in the request, only wishing it had come under happier circumstances. He slipped under the duvet and moved close, lying on his side and cradling her close. She snuggled her head against his chest and he was able to finally calm his pounding heart when he felt her relax against him.

He was almost asleep when he thought he heard her whisper, "I love you too Severus."


	15. Chapter 14

**AN: I'm finally home to my lovely (if somewhat retarded) computer! You'll be pleased to know I've got some delightful ideas coming your way soon, but it's late here and I don't have time to do them justice, so you get some delightful fluff! Enjoy!**

Chapter 14

Severus awoke with a start, for once grateful he had dreamt that night. It was the same dream he had experienced many times, though not in the last month or two; the dream in which he relived what he had once thought were the last moments of his life. He felt the slick smooth scales of that damnable snake coiling around, her teeth slipping into his neck. It wasn't the teeth that had been painful, it was the venom that soaked into his muscled, atrophying everything as it began weaving a path of annihilation through his body. He had been prepared as any man could be to face his destruction. He had welcomed it, thinking it would bring welcome release. Then he would snap awake.

But not tonight. Tonight the memories had continued, perhaps from exhaustion, perhaps from the comfort of having Hermione sleeping comfortably beside him. It was quite odd sometimes the way his mind worked. Whatever the reason, he woke up not from the sharp feeling of venom flowing through him once again, but to a pair of large honey brown eyes that had become very familiar to him over the course of the last few months. Strange that he had never remembered that particular detail before. In the dim light from emanating from the fireplace he could make out the features of his savior. He looked at her in a way he had never seen him before.

Why had she done it? She had saved him whilst in the throes of the most important battle the Wizarding World had seen in centuries. She had risked her own life to save him while her best friend prepared to face and kill the most powerful man on the planet. There was yet another side of her he had never seen. Who knew the incessantly annoying little know-it-all would grow up to become such a fascinating woman? And on top of that, that she would save the life of a vicious despicable former Death Eater over helping her friend.

XXXX

It was not an odd sense of being misplaced that woke her; it was a very familiar smell that slowly eased her back to consciousness. More specifically, it was the clean but spicy scent that was unique to the man she loved that brought her peacefully awake in a way she hadn't thought possible after months of nightmares ripping her awake. Wait, loved? Did he really tell her he loved her? That hardly seemed like something her mind would even attempt to convey in a dream, but if it was a dream, then why did she have to wake up? She could bask in that feeling forever, regardless of whether it was just something her mind had created. At the very least it was a vast improvement over the sorts of dreams she usually had. She had just decided to keep her eyes firmly shut to try to recapture the feeling when his voice ensured she was not going back to sleep. Not with that deep silky voice finishing the caress his scent had started.

"Do try not to move yet love. Not until I've been able to check how you're healing."

Healing? From wha- Oh, that's right, Ron the giant git nearly eviscerating her. She finally opened her eyes to see Severus eyeing her with…what? There was a look in his eyes she certainly had never seen before. And she was becoming a master at deciphering what his eyes were telling her.

She almost missed him reaching for the top button on her shirt. It took a moment before she realized her normal nightclothes did not involve buttons…or a high collar for that matter. Before she had a chance to voice her question, Severus spoke up, "I've got to undo the first few buttons just so I can check how everything is healing under the bandage. I will not do anything untoward." His fingers slipped against her skin as he pulled back the collar and pulled up a thick sheet of gauze that was pressed against her chest. She unconsciously gave a shiver as his skin grazed hers. His eyes jerked to hers and he asked, "Does that hurt?"

She couldn't control the light sigh that escaped her lips. "Hurt?" Her mind certainly was fuzzier than usual this morning.

"Yes, your…" He cut off as he saw the bumps of raised skin and realized how close his hands were to doing something unseemly, as he had just promised not to do. While she definitely did not mind his hands roaming her skin, it seemed that now was not the time. Not when she was starting to feel the gash stretching nearly from shoulder to hip. She eyed the shirt once more, realizing he must have provided it for her.

"Erm, Severus? How did I…" She tugged at the shirt, hoping he would understand what she couldn't quite bring herself to ask. If he had done anything inappropriate, it would be up to him to tell, not up to her to ask.

He glanced away and she could almost make out a slight red tinge to his cheeks. "I, erm, I had to get you out of that jumper, it was sodden. And, well, the shirt was all I had on hand after bandaging you up. I could lie and tell you I saw nothing, but that would not be entirely true." He watched the red flush creep up her neck and to her cheeks. "However, I was far too concerned to stop the blood flow to – erm – pay attention to what I saw."

She lifted a hand to his face, bringing his eyes to hers. "It's alright Severus. I'd much rather be alive than worry about my modesty. And thank you, for patching me up again. I seem to keep falling apart on you." She attempted a small giggle that quickly turned to a gasp as the rather sizable cut on her chest shifted with her movement. Severus left and quickly reappeared in her rather limited line of sight with a potion she recognized straight away. She had seen Harry drink it often enough.

"No Severus, I'm so tired of sleeping, even if it will help with the pain. Sit with me instead?" She made to shift her arms behind her to sit up and immediately he caught her with an arm behind her shoulders.

"Silly girl, you've been nearly split in two. The least you can do is wait for some help to sit up. I'm not about to deprive myself of such wonderful company after spending a morning with that regrettably insipid _Daily Prophet_. I fail to see why to continue to read that nonsense."

"Then why read it?"

"I've caught up on all my journals, so I decided to see if there was anything worthwhile in that blasted thing. Your snores hardly make for intelligent conversation."

"It's only because I had to sleep on my back! If I had been able to roll to my side I wouldn't have snored at all!"

He leaned over and kissed her gently before settling himself beside her, one arm wrapped comfortably around her shoulders. "Don't worry yourself love, it was rather endearing."

She stilled at that word, that one seemingly innocuous word that he slipped in so stealthily she almost didn't catch it.

"I heard what you said last night. Did you mean it?"

She was quite glad he decided to forgo the act of innocence she half expected. "Of course I did. I am sure you are aware by now that I do not say things if I do not mean them."

"Say it again please? Now that I'm awake."

His hand came up to cup her cheek as he lowered his face toward hers. "I love you Hermione Jean Granger. Lord help us both."

Wow. So this was the look she had noticed earlier. "I love you too Severus. And don't you dare forget it." She closed the gap between their lips.

After a long moment of seeking lips and tangled tongues; a moment that quite possibly contained an entire lifetime of their pent up feelings, Hermione pulled back, short on breath. As her breathing slowed, she followed his gaze to his shirt, which was currently exposing a large white bandage and a fair amount of her shoulders and neck. She glanced down to the buttons he had undone earlier and remarked, "You know, I quite like your shirt."

"You should keep it. That shirt does more for you than it ever has for me." She watched the fire in his eyes as he dipped his and captured her lips before placing gentle kisses along her jaw and down her neck. He ran a finger along her collar bone, sending chills once more coursing through her.

XXXX

Who knew he could be this happy? His saviour now saved and, by the looks of it, rather happy with him.

Oh, who was he kidding, it was apparent she was as happy and contented to be resting in his arms as he was with having her there. Perhaps it was time to let her in on the little secret he had been keeping.

"Hermione, love, now that our relationship is not quite so private, I'd like to take you out to dinner. You should have a proper date, not night after night locked away in the dungeons."

Her smile warmed his heart even more – the organ didn't feel quite so rock solid after months with her around. And, if he were to truly be honest with himself, he quite enjoyed the feeling. The terror of the dungeons certainly was not gone, but with Hermione, he could be himself. A self he hadn't seen or even experienced since he was quite young. And it was thanks to her that he even had the chance to experience her. Lying in his arms, his shirt slipping down one creamy shoulder, he realized how truly lucky he was to have her at last. He was going to do things right this time. No, this was not the obsessive need he experienced with Lily Evans. This went deeper, to the core of his being. And after all the years he'd lived, and all the lessons he'd learned the hard way, he finally knew what to do with all that knowledge. He would keep her close to his heart and love her as long as she would let him.


	16. Chapter 15

**AN: So I had some comments from you lovely reviewers of a few things that didn't quite make sense, and I definitely appreciate that! I forget sometimes that none of you can quite see what I'm envisioning mentally. For all of you who mentioned frustration that Ron did not get hexed for attacking Hermione... I apologize. I assure you in the scene I was picturing he was hit with something by every member of his family in the room, leaving him unconscious and rather unrecognizable. I just got carried away and forgot to include it in the chapter, but I intend to go back and add it in later.**

**Sampdoria: I hope this chapter answers some of the hesitations you had about Hermione's quick forgiveness. However, that could also be my personality seeping through. I tend to be horribly forgiving to my friends, so of course Hermione is going to be also :-p  
**

Chapter 15

Dinner out had been lovely. The gash on her chest had finally stopped twingeing with every move. She had slept in Severus' shirt all week, and worked with him every day. The last week, summed up in a phrase, had been incandescent happiness for Hermione. And now, they sat comfortably on the sofa in his sitting room, sharing a bottle of wine. She sat against him, her feet tucked up and her head resting against his shoulder. He sat with an arm around her shoulders, staring of to the distance, and yet they were both perfectly comfortable to sit in silence, sipping their wine.

It was the first evening that she was comfortable enough to let herself think. And, unfortunately, there were several things weighing on her mind that she had been pushing back for ages. Number one on that list was Ronald Weasley. How had they gone from best friends and happily dating to him attacking her with her back turned. She had thought their break up had been… well she certainly wouldn't go so far as to call it amicable. But she had told him about the memories that plagued her and he had reacted poorly, which she had been expecting. What had been completely out of the blue was the anger. She had been expecting shock and pity, but not the vehement anger as he yelled at her and called her all manner of names she didn't care to recall. Needless to say he had ended things between them that afternoon.

Looking back on the weeks before that day, she realized now that he had been pulling away from her for a while. From every angle she analyzed, she could find no reason for his actions. Just like she could find no reason for his very violent reaction to her confession of memories. Sure, he had been rather distant, and she hadn't seen him nearly as often as she had immediately after the war, but she had only supposed that he was trying to sort out what he was going to do with his life or some equally momentous decision.

Then…well, here was where question two had come in to play. What on earth had he told Harry and his family that so thoroughly poisoned them against her? It must have been something big to make them so furious that none of them had even thought to ask for her side of the story. Obviously it had been something that was a bit farfetched because every one of them had no problem believing her side of the story once it was told. But still it begged the question…what on earth had Ron told them?

She was quite grateful for the Weasleys now that they knew the truth. She didn't even have the heart to be too upset with them for a year without contact because it was too nice to have them all back in her life again. Poor Molly seemed to be particularly broken up about it. She kept sending owls to the school for her with some home baked treat or other. Even more surprising – and it could only be seen as a gesture of goodwill – she always included enough for Severus as well. Molly's acceptance of Severus as her, erm, whatever he was, without protest was obviously her way of apologizing without saying the words repeatedly. And, well, it was just so pleasant to be corresponding with Ginny and Harry, and receiving treats from Molly that she could forgive their ignorance for whatever it was Ron had poisoned them by saying.

And here she was back to that again… What had Ron told everyone?

Her mind took her on a side trip, away from the unpleasant and confusing thoughts of Ron, back to the man sitting calmly beside her, toying with an errant curl. What exactly should she refer to him as? Boyfriend seemed like such a juvenile term, and this certainly was no juvenile relationship. She had finally met her match intellectually, someone who was not contented to always talk about Quidditch and their past exploits about the school.

No, Severus challenged her. She would assist him during classes and often it was up to her to discover how a student's brew had gone wrong – particularly if injury occurred – so they could solve the problem and heal the pains. It was a challenge to keep her mentally on her toes, because more often than not, she would miss the action that caused the disaster and would have to rely on her observations to sort it out. It was certainly an incredible way for her to learn more than she had expected about potions when she first retreated to the dungeons at the beginning of summer.

And their conversations in the evening, those were something else entirely. For a man so well versed in everything related to potion brewing, he was astoundingly well versed in many other areas as well. They had talked philosophy and literature, he had introduced her to the world of art, and on one odd evening she had actually caught him cooking supper the muggle way. Though, on second thought, that shouldn't have surprised her so much. He had made a lovely stew, which he made with the same precision and grace he used when preparing and adding ingredients to a potion.

For all her thoughts about how well they suited, it still didn't answer question three. Fortunately this was something he could help her with.

"Severus?"

He pulled himself back from whatever distant land he had been exploring mentally, "Hmm?"

"What are we?"

"Happy." Happy… well, they certainly were that.

"No. Well, yes we are, but that's not what I meant. What should we call each other? How do we classify our relationship?"

"I suppose if you must label it, I am your beau."

Perfect. None of the adolescent feelings from the term boyfriend, but nothing more serious than the happy relationship they were enjoying. At least that was one of her questions answered.

She tucked her head back in its spot on his shoulder and absentmindedly started toying with the buttons on his coat.

Now that she had broken their silence, he apparently decided to continue, "Where did that question come from?"

"I've been thinking."

She could hear the smirk when he replied, "Of course."

"I've been going round in circles mentally, mostly about Ron and how off his rocker he's gone. The question about us was simply one of the easier questions that has been flitting around in my mind since we went to the Weasley's."

"And what of Mr. Weasley?"

"I don't know. Nothing that has happened since I told him about that day has made any sense to me. I don't know why he was so angry at me for something I didn't have control over. I don't know what he told Harry and his family about me to make them turn away from me. I certainly don't know why he felt the need to hex me. None of it makes any sense."

"We shall find the answers out sooner or later. Molly has informed me that she and Arthur have been keeping a very close eye on him since he attacked you, and they have informed the Ministry – quietly – about what has transpired. However, we need not solve that particular conundrum tonight. I think, perhaps it is time for bed."

She made no move to get up. She was far too comfortable nestled against him. "Must we?"

"Yes. It's late and I know you are still healing from that curse, even if you don't feel it anymore. That particular curse happens to linger for a few weeks."

He raised a good argument, she was tired. But she was also loathe to leave him. She was enjoying their closeness too much to want to end it with something as trivial as bed.

"Severus? Might I…erm…Well, could I-? Couldistaywithyou?"

"What?"

"Could I stay with you? I haven't slept so well as I did the night I slept down here with you. I just want to stay close to you."

The shocked look on his face eased to a slight smile and he held out a hand to her. "I must admit, I did enjoy that as well, regardless of your night time noises."

She had the good grace to snort – a very ladylike sound to exhibit her annoyance at him bringing that up again. She did not snore. Usually.

He led her into the bedroom and excused himself to the bathroom beyond, obviously intending to give her some privacy as they both readied for bed. It was a good thing the students had just left for the Christmas holiday. She had no intention of sleeping without her new sleep shirt, and it would look rather odd for one of Severus' rather distinctive shirts was seen zooming down the corridors.

XXXX

Severus knocked then opened the bathroom door slowly, intending to give her ample time to protest if she was indecently attired. He was surprised to see her curled on one side of the bed, hugging a pillow, wearing his shirt. It was devoid of its usually starched smooth appearance. It seemed she had been sleeping in his shirt since he had given it to her.

He certainly had not been lying when he told her it did wonders for her. With the sleeved haphazardly rolled up and her hair tumbling over a pillow, she was the picture of relaxed perfection. He slid under the duvet and shifted her gently under the covers, trying not to wake her. Fortunately he succeeded, and in the shift he found her snuggled closer to him. He tucked her against his shoulder and rested an arm on her side, just below her ribcage. He was amused to note that even sleeping on her side her breathing was heavier. Not that he would dare call it a snore. But it was close.

He eyed her once more, taking in the long lashes hovering just on her cheeks, the freckles lightly dusting her nose, and the riotous curls that framed her head. She was lovely. He still questioned how the fates had seen fit to send her to him. He felt thoroughly undeserving.

No matter, he would endeavor to deserve her love. Dinner had been a good start. He intended to continue with small measures to treat her well. Tomorrow's surprise would certainly keep his plan going.


	17. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

She looked angelic in her sleep, even with her wild masses of curls flying everywhere. It was bliss waking up with her curled against his chest. He could certainly get used to this, and very quickly. It was odd how quickly he had made the mental adjustment from the curmudgeonly git that stalked the dungeons to the somewhat well adjusted man who desired nothing more than to treat his woman well. He had realized already that his love for Lily Evans was more just an obsessive need to feel accepted. That's what was so different between that ghost of a relationship and what he shared with Hermione. She returned his feelings, she accepted him as he was, flaws included. To Lily he had simply been an old friend; to Hermione he could tell he was much more. To her, he hoped to be her future.

He glanced at the clock on the mantel, noting with a little thrill of delight that it was time to rouse his bedmate. And he knew just how. He brushed an errant curl from her face and planted kisses along her jaw while his hand reached to her side, walking his fingers along the base of her ribs. He had recently discovered that sensitive spot and was delighted to watch her squirm under the touch as she slowly awoke. In that moment, as she slowly shook off the heaviness of sleep from her mind, he reveled again in his happiness. She looked so at peace. This was a far cry from the dark eyed, pale faced ghost of a girl he had to extract from under a table in his laboratory only a few short months ago. He could not resist – nor did he want to – swooping down to kiss her sleepy hazed smile. He was surprised when he felt one of her soft warm hands slide under the edge of shit shirt at his hip and pulled him closer. He only pulled away when he heard the clock chime, reminding him of the plans he had made.

"Time to get up, love. We've got big plans and we cannot be late."

"Plans? To do what?" He could tell from the look on her face that she was trying to remember plans she didn't know of.

"If I told you now, it wouldn't be a surprise. But you will want to wear muggle clothes. Perhaps something like that fetching skirt you wore the other day?" The one that barely dusted the tops of her knees that he found rather irresistible. She had merely smirked at him when he told her how he felt about it, but he knew he got the gist.

She looked rather hesitant to drag herself from his bed. Not that he blamed her. He kissed her soundly once more and said, "We really must move along. I shall meet you in the Great Hall in an hour."With that he exited to the bathroom to get cleaned up and allow her privacy as she threw on the previous day's clothes for her sojourn back to her quarters.

XXXX

Severus was being incredibly tight lipped about their mysterious destination. Not that it was too surprising; he was a rather quiet man in general. What had surprised her was finding him waiting in the Hall wearing trousers and a jumper that was _not_ black. It was a deep charcoal grey, but the slight difference was striking. He looked much less severe than he normally did with high collared shirts rather old fashioned frock coat. The look suited him, but she found the jumper a nice change nonetheless.

As they walked across the lawn towards the school gates, she tried once more, "When will you tell me where we're going Severus?"

"You shall see when we arrive. I know your tendency to worry needlessly, so I am simply saving you from a bit of that." With that, he wrapped an arm around her waist and they apparated away from the school.

It was her parent's house. The only home she had known before going to Hogwarts. Why on earth would Severus bring her here of all places? Particularly with her parents still residing in Australia. He placed a hand at the small of her back and wordlessly led her up the walk and rang the bell. Then standing before her, looking as nervous as she felt, were her parents. For a moment she could do nothing more than stare. She had dreamt about seeing her parents again, but they had made it unequivocally clear that she was to not darken their doorstep with her presence. Fearing what Severus had done, she started to edge a foot backwards, preparing to turn and run at the first sign of anger. She could not handle being rejected by her parents again. That small movement triggered something, because rather than an onslaught of harsh words, she found her mother's arms flung about her neck. Then her usually stoic father joined the emotional grouping.

After a long moment, her mother finally broke the silence, "Come on in, and you too Severus. I've just made tea and I know we have quite a bit to talk about." Hermione looked back to find Severus standing with arms crossed, not angry, but observant. With the invitation to tea, he placed his hand again at the small of her back to remind her feet to move into the house.

They all sat rather stiffly in the living room with their tea, as if no one was quite sure where to start. Finally, her father cleared his throat and said, "Well, Hermione, it looks as if you've been well." He tossed a glance to Severus as he spoke.

Fortunately her mother spoke before she could try to come up with an answer that would suit them, "Oh for heaven's sake John, must we start with that again? You know quite well that Severus is a good man."

"I know that dear, but I wanted to hear it from Hermione. I just want to make sure she's happy with him, even though he's older." With that he turned to Hermione and asked, "Well, are you happy?"

She didn't try to fight the smile as she glanced to the man seated next to her. "I am, finally. I know he's older, dad, but he's the right fit for me. I love him."

At that John Granger nodded his head and her mother told her daughter, "I'm glad you finally figured that out. I feared you'd end up with that Ronald Weasley, and dear, I knew he was all wrong for you. We were rather surprised when Severus sought us out, but after the nice chat we had, I knew he was a good man for you. We certainly liked Ronald, but he was just… well, he certainly was no match for your mind. I'm sure as a master of potions, he's bound to give you better conversation at least." At that Elizabeth Granger gave her daughter a sly smile, as if to say, 'I understand you.' She continued, "Good, now that we've got that out of the way, there's this matter of our memories being changed that we'd like to discuss."

Hermione's stomach dropped out from its normal place in her abdomen to fall straight through the floor. So this was when the anger would surface again.

She opened her mouth to beg forgiveness and a change to give an explanation, but her father cut her off. "Hermione, we were very disturbed to learn that we were not Wendell and Monica Wilkins, and that you had wiped yourself from our minds. You are our only daughter and there is nothing out there that would make us ever want to forget you." He paused, searching for words. "Your mother and I, well… We need to hear what happened. Severus tried to explain things to us, about how dangerous times were, but we need to hear it from you."

She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself and collect her jumbled thoughts. Severus had sought out her parents and talked to them, to help her heal the discord? Her parents were finally giving her a chance to explain? Where should she even start?

"First, I should say that I know how hurtful it was to change your memories as I did. It tore me apart, so I can only imagine what that did to you both once you knew what I had done. And I am sorry for that pain. I just knew that times were going to get much worse and I had to make sure you were safe, so that I would not have to worry about either of you being in danger while we tried to fight Voldemort.

By that time, I knew how sadistic he was, and how much pleasure he took in torturing muggles. I was especially worried for you both because he knew that I was one of Harry Potter's best friends. If he could get to me, that would heavily weaken Harry, and you two would be perfect targets to get to me. I had to know that you were safe and didn't know anything so that no one could use you to draw me out, or torture you to get information on me. As Severus can attest, Voldemort took great pleasure in torturing muggles for no reason, so he would find even more pleasure in torturing and killing you both to get at me and Harry. I couldn't take the risk that anything would happen to you. To keep you both and myself safe, I had to know you couldn't be used to lure me into a trap." By this point, remembering the tough decision and the horrible times that followed, she had tears streaming down her face.

At this point Severus spoke up, "I can assure you both that Hermione's actions were certainly for the best. The Dark Lord tried on several occasions to do those very things. He intended to use you both to kill Hermione. And he would not have been gentle if he found you."

Her mother cleared her throat. It made Hermione feel slightly better to see that she had been crying as well. Maybe this talk would go better than the previous tries. "Hermione, Severus told us he was a spy during that war. How can you trust what he says?"

"Yes he was a spy, but he was the one who helped us finally end everything. He gave Harry the information that helped kill Voldemort, at risk to his own life. I watched, hidden, as he was attacked by Voldemort's snake. He – he almost died trying to keep us alive. " At that statement Severus pulled her close and Hermione let him, resting her head against his shoulder and hugging him around the waist. Damn what her parents thought about his age, she loved him for everything he had done, and she accepted that he had done some horrid things in his youth. He had recanted and saved them, and she knew that his true heart was for the Light. And for her. He had revealed so much of himself lately that she had no doubt what he truly felt for her.

She watched as her parents absorbed the information she had given them. The shock at the danger they had unknowingly been in eased the anger from their faces, then finally the both relaxed, accepting what their only daughter had told them. That she had saved their lives through the action that they had reviled her for.

Her mother was always the more understanding of her parents, and she was the one to finally break the silence.

"So, now that the tumult of the war is finally over and you've finished school, what do you do now? Severus mentioned something about potions?"

"Yes mum, I've been doing a bit of research trying to develop a new potion, and learning a fair bit from Severus when I help in his classes. As a student I never quite realized how hard he had it with all of us causing problems." She grinned at him, thinking of the last week of classes, in which three separate cauldrons had melted in the third years' class alone. The coming Christmas holiday had been rather distracting.

Several hours later, after lunch and another round of tea, they were finally walking back to the castle. They had left her parents on good terms, things between them finally cleared, and with an invitation to return for Christmas dinner. An invitation for her and Severus. She was quite glad he had left the trip a mystery. Had she known before hand, Hermione knew she would have been a nervous wreck and would have probably made things worse, not better. She was realizing Severus knew her better than she realized. Apparently her habit of worrying had not gone completely unnoticed over the years.

"Thank you for today Severus."

"It was my pleasure, love. You couldn't very well have a happy Christmas with that discord hanging over you."

She hugged him fiercely and reached up to kiss him, landing on his jaw before finding his mouth. The day had been perfect, if somewhat emotional. They stayed that way for a long, soul healing kiss, before returning to the castle.


	18. Chapter 17

**AN: Hello to everyone still with me, I apologize for that delay. Apparently its flu season around here... However, things are looking up now, and all I have left to do is play catch-up! So...enjoy!**

Chapter 17

Christmas Eve found Hermione holed up with her potion, which had been stewing as she waited for the right time to add the Edelweiss. If her potion was successful, she would make headlines across the Wizarding World. However, the rather lengthy brewing process would put a bit of a damper on her success. Perhaps there was another way of adding the ingredients to shorten the brewing time. She would have to do a bit of research. But of course, that would have to wait until after all of her Christmas celebrating was done. Celebrations she wasn't exactly excited about, in large part because it would involve a trip back to the Burrow. Molly had assured her that Ron would be locked in his room – rather like when he was twelve – and given a sleeping draught for good measure. However, Hermione knew only too well how easy it could be for him to sneak out if he really put his mind to it. Not that Ron was quite as brilliant without hers or Harry's help. But she still worried. And that was why she was hovering anxiously in the lab, trying to distract herself with thoughts of her potion rather than thoughts of impending disaster. She only wished she could get it over with so she could enjoy the rest of her Christmas in peace. At least she had Christmas morning with Severus to look forward to, even if it wouldn't be the usual traditions she was used to. She just kept reminding herself, at least this Christmas she had her friends and her parents back. And of course, she had Severus.

XXXX

Severus was dreading Christmas for an entirely different reason. One of personal pride. Perhaps his reputation as a complete git would precede him, and no one would actually believe what he was going to do. But he knew somehow word was going to get out and the students would never look at him the same way again. It would be worth it, for Hermione's reaction, but he was still dreading the backlash. At least all his plans were in place, and he simply had to get through the blasted party at the Weasley's.

XXXX

Severus watched Hermione as she chatted with Harry and Ginevra. She had visibly relaxed as the evening wore on due in large part to the wine glass she was holding. He could still see the anxiety lying right under the surface, and he knew it would not completely ease until they were safely back at Hogwarts, where Ronald was not stashed away in the attic. At least Hermione was trying to enjoy the evening. He could hear her talking excitedly about her potion, regardless of the less than enthused looks on her friends' faces. She appeared to be having fun, but he worried about her as the evening progressed. He anxiously awaited the moment he could take her back to his quarters and wrap her safely in his arms.

Severus was not sure he would have agreed to the evening at the Burrow had it not been for Molly's excellent cooking, particularly after the debacle of their last visit. Arthur had confided in him that they had attempted to have Ronald admitted to St. Mungo's for his mental state. Apparently the mediwizards there had given him a thorough examination and found that, aside from some jealousy of Harry and anger at Hermione for ending their relationship, he was mentally stable. They could only guess that perhaps he had been drinking the night of the attack, although there was no way to be sure. Because the examination results came out relatively normal, they could not forcibly commit an of age Ronald. So Arthur and Molly were keeping close tabs on him, even to the point that they put a tracking spell to ensure he went nowhere but work and the occasional pub. As much as they wanted to take more serious actions against their son, they could hardly hold him against his will without proof of something more nefarious than a seemingly crazed one-time act. It was a vicious cycle of wanting to protect Hermione while still remaining within the constraints of the law. It was when he was trapped in that cycle of thoughts that he almost wished he was the bad person everyone thought, so he could simply take care of Ronald on his own. But he was determined to thoroughly enjoy his rebirth brought about by Voldemort's death. And, more importantly, he was going to enjoy every moment that he could with Hermione.

She laughed at something Ginevra said, and he watched her unconsciously toss her hair, curls cascading down her back, calling for his touch. He was insatiable where Hermione was concerned, and he found it near impossible to hold himself back. Yet, he had to, so he would not drive her away. He stalked quietly up and slid an arm around her waist, needing to feel her close to him, and was rewarded with her glowing smile. He pressed a kiss to her temple. It was amazing, the changes she had wrought in him without even realizing it. And for all of his reclusive tendencies, she still managed to draw him out of his shell, even amongst others.

XXXX

Finally the evening was over and she had seen neither hide nor hair of Ron. Thank goodness. She wasn't sure if she could handle even seeing him, let alone attempting conversation like a civilized person. Not that she expected him to appear and allow things to go back to the way they were before, back when she and Harry and Ron had been called the Golden Trio. Those days were too far gone. She would settle for never seeing him again, in light of his attempt to sever her in two.

She sagged against Severus, exhausted after a day of worrying and an evening of anxious energy. She was looking forward to crawling in bed and being wrapped in Severus' arms. It was the perfect way for her to welcome Christmas, wrapped in the arms of her love. She was thankful for his support, unsure of how much longer she could stay on her feet. Thank goodness they were already in the dungeons, and drawing near. Severus opened the door for her, and she allowed the comfort of his familiar sitting room to wash over her.

Then she gasped. This was not the sitting room she had become used to… This was bright. There was a tree! And garlands of lights shimmering along the walls and strung along the ceiling. And the tree, it was beautiful, covered with charmed globes that looked like they were ice, but as clear as crystal. The room glistened with Christmas spirit. She looked up and there was… Severus swooped down and kissed her soundly, and she lost the remains of her thought process. This moment was perfect. How could he have possibly known that she missed the decorations and frills of Christmas? That it made her feel like the world was good again. Then again, Severus was exceptionally good at doing that for her in general.

He broke away and said softly, "Happy Christmas Hermione."

"Mmm," she sighed, "happy Christmas to you too. Thank you for doing all this."

"It was my pleasure. I could tell you were not feeling festive after Ron's attack. And I hate to see you less than happy."

"I am happy Severus. You make me happy. You're so thoughtful and kind, even if you try to hide it."

"You do realize, of course, that I will not want word of this escaping?"

"Of course." She reached up to kiss the tip of his nose, "I know how important it is for you to keep those poor first years terrified." She slipped her arms inside his robe and hugged him close, her hands slipping their way up his strong back as she pulled him into another toe-curling kiss. This man, this wonderful loving man that generally avoided Christmas festivities of any kind had not only accompanied her to a Christmas party, but he had decorated his private rooms just because he noticed that she had been a bit unhappy. He really was just right for her, and she knew in that moment that she could trust him completely.

She felt the happiness bubbling up, and flowed out in a teasing question, "Will you be singing carols for me as well?"

He quirked an eyebrow at her, "Hardly."

"Well, since we won't be carol singing, I think you should have your present. You've given me yours tonight."

She reached into her purse and pulled out a shrunken package, which she proceeded to enlarge and hand to him. It was a book, obvious by the shape, even through the wrapping. She watched him eye it curiously and she could practically hear him wondering if it was going to be a duplicate to something he already owned. She certainly hadn't been able to explore even half of his collection yet, but she knew he did not have this. Inside the wrapping was a plain, leather bound book with no inscription on the cover.

It was a joy to watch his face as he opened the cover to see what was on the first page. The book was plain, almost like a journal, except for a lone photograph staring up at him. Somehow one of the Weasley boys had managed to snap it at the previous dinner, before Ron had ruined things. The photograph showed Severus and Hermione sitting comfortably on the sofa, his arm draped across the back near her shoulders. It was rare to see him so relaxed. She was laughing and he was smiling, a true smile, not his usual smirk or just an upturned corner of his lips.

Severus looked up at her, a question plainly written in his eyes. "It's for the memories to come. Now that you're free from _him_ and you can actually live your life, I expect you'll be creating plenty of happy memories."

He pulled her close once again, kissing her soundly, before saying, "I expect you to play a rather large role in those memories, you know." If this day got any better, her heart might just explode from happiness.

"The decorations weren't really your gift."

She felt rather than saw him pull something out of his pocket, then he was slipping a silver necklace around her neck, fastening it for her. The necklace was Slytherin, without overtly being a snake. It was a simple emerald with a simple swirling design in silver surrounding it. It was lovely, if somewhat tarnished from lack of use; obviously it was quite old.

In answer to the question he must have seen coming, he said, "It is a family heirloom from my mother's side. It's not quite as dramatic as a ring, but I do want it to serve as a reminder of how special you are to me, and a promise of my love."

That was it, the final straw. Life was officially perfect. She pulled him toward bed without breaking their kiss, all the while wishing that she could live in that moment of happiness forever.


	19. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Boxing Day was welcomed with lazy relief. Christmas day, while marvelous, had been awfully busy with visiting and cooking. It was nice to be able to lounge in bed, wrapped in Severus' arms, and enjoy the simple pleasure of allowing her hands to explore his bare chest. They had a comfortable innocent intimacy, and she was grateful. She knew Severus was taking things slow, knowing how her past would make her hesitant of too much too fast. And she was grateful. Her innocence had been ripped away, and Severus was giving her the chance to explore intimacy at her own pace; at the pace of someone who was experiencing that side of life for the first time.

Severus eyed her as she traced the scars across his torso. They were evidence of a hard life, of all he had been through over the last few decades, and of what he had to move past to become the free and happy man before her. They fascinated her because the represented his dichotomy of personality: the evil professor and former spy, and the loving man that was pulling her out of her own dark hole. She certainly wasn't scar free, as Severus was discovering. He was currently tracing one that started on the outside her hip and wrapped around to disappear under her waistband. His lips followed his fingers, trying to kiss away any remaining demons.

This might have to be the start of a lovely Boxing Day tradition.

XXXX

Severus grimaced, the _Daily Prophet_ was at it again. Thank goodness Hermione was still getting ready for the day, so he would have time to stash the paper. Or warn her against the front page article. It was astounding what that rag considered front-page worthy.

He skimmed at the article again, wishing he could wring the neck of whoever wrote the damned thing. At least it was not Rita Skeeter; things would be ten times worse if she were involved. Hands wrapped around his torso from behind and there was no chance to hide away the offensive article in his hands. Warning her against it was now the only option. Now he had to fight her insatiable curiosity. He could already see her reaction if she got a hold of the article.

He felt her press a kiss between his shoulder blades. At least he knew she couldn't see the paper from there. He eyed it once more, wondering if he could just vanish it without her noticing. But then how would he explain what he had been doing, standing in the middle of his study, staring at his hands?

"Good morning, love." He turned to face her, searching for the now requisite morning kiss.

"Morning Severus. You seemed awfully intent on that paper a moment ago. Anything interesting?"

He gave an undignified snort. "I'm not sure interesting is the best word. I know you won't listen, but I would strongly suggest you avoid the front page if you wish to enjoy the remainder of the day."

He felt her freeze in his arms. "What is it?"

"It seems an _anonymous_ source gave a rather disparaging interview to the profit about your preferences in men." He cupped her cheek with his free hand to make sure she was looking into his eyes before continuing, "Trust me, Hermione. It's a load of rubbish that would only spoil your day. Don't read it and save yourself the frustration."

"Someone made aspersions to our relationship and you want me to avoid it? We knew there would be people out there who oppose us, and I'd much rather be prepared for what they are throwing at us. Severus, give me the damned paper so we can get this over with."

"That's not a good idea love. Better to ignore it and let this lot of nonsense blow over. I hardly see how this is even worthy of the front page."

"Severus, you're stalling. Give me the paper or I'll just go out in the snow and hunt down another copy."

He reluctantly handed over the paper and watched as she eyed the headline. It was rather pedestrian, even for the _Prophet_: "Golden Girl Gone Bad!" She smirked at the title then remained impassive as she read the article. Then she surprised him completely when she burst out laughing. After a long hard laugh that caused tears to course down her cheeks, she looked up at him and said, "You were worried about me reading this _shite_?"

"Of course. The so called anonymous source claims that the war gave you a proclivity for dark wizards, which led you to me as one of the biggest and baddest."

"Oh stuff it Severus. If that were the case don't you think I'd have gone after Malfoy? He didn't even try to atone for what he did. We all know the reason he's only living under house arrest is because he managed to use his family money to buy himself out of Azkaban." She gave a graceful snort. "Beside, you were exonerated tenfold for all you did as a spy, and for good reason, with all you did to assist the Order and Harry. And yes, you were entangled in Dumbledore's death, but a majority of wizards look on it as assisted suicide. The memories you gave Harry were viewed during your trial, while you were still in the coma. Those combined with testimony from Harry and several others completely acquitted you of all accused crimes. You're practically as big a hero as Harry is!

And yes, Ron was spot on when he told them I'm with you, but that's hardly been a secret! The Weasleys all know, Minerva knows, Harry knows! We've kept things quiet, but not secret! Sure I will probably get some rather unhappy mail from witches thinking our age difference is odd, or that I'm power hungry and went after you when Harry was taken, but I hardly think a few letters is worth worrying about. There are always some lonely witches that get taken in by this sort of rubbish. We've known there would be some backlash when our relationship became public knowledge, but I'm ready for it, aren't you?"

"Yes of course. Now that you mention things, that is rather amusing. And I do appreciate your tirade to defend my honor against myself." Insert signature smirk. "However this does complicate things for you as my apprentice. While the school does not have any rule forbidding a Master/apprentice relationship, I might suggest you keep your appearances scarce for the first few days once classes resume, until the tempest from this eases."

"As much as I hate it because that feels like the cowards way out, I do agree. I'll make a few small appearances and slowly start showing up more. It wouldn't do to have parents sending owls haranguing you for an inappropriate relationship in front of their children." He opened his mouth to protest but she cut him off, "We both know we would never do anything inappropriate in front of students, but you do know how gossip spreads in this castle. One morning kiss and by lunch they'll have us shagging on your desk in front of a class."

"I would hardly shag you in front of an entire class. Now, my desk may be something to consider later on." He laughed at the look on her face; it was a combination of embarrassment, horror, and perhaps…fascination? Hmm, perhaps his innocent apprentice was not as innocent as she appeared. One day he would have quite a bit of fun exploring that idea. For now he would simply enjoy tasting the delectable blush spreading across her cheeks and neck.

XXXX

Perhaps she had underestimated the backlash that article created. Over the coming weeks, Hermione received more than her fair share of scathing letters and more howlers than she cared to admit too. It was moments like those that she welcomed the thick stone walls of Severus' dungeon quarters. Or maybe she should start calling them _their_ quarters. She certainly spent more time in the dungeons with him than she did in her own room. And why sleep alone in her cold unfeeling bed when she could have Severus there to kiss her to sleep and shake her from the nightmares that occurred less and less frequently. If she wasn't careful, she could easily get used to that sort of treatment. Some days she felt so comfortable that she would swear they'd been together for years. But nothing ever felt old, trite, boring. Not with his brilliant mind. Or those wicked fingers. Or those moments when he got that glint in his eye – she'd call it playful if it was anyone other than Severus. He may be a different person around her, but she wouldn't go so far as to call him playful. Mmmm but the divine way he made her feel…greedy. She wanted more. She wanted all of him, forever. She was just going to be as greedy as he'd let her. And maybe, if she was really lucky, he'd be greedy too.

XXXX

It was a lovely, relaxed Saturday morning in April. The castle was quiet, and Hermione was enjoying yet another morning nestled against Severus, both reading quietly and sipping tea. It was one of those moments you look back on when you're unhappy, and wish you could call it back again.

There was a knock on the door. "Severus, were you expecting company this early?"

He shook his head as he rose to answer the door. He returned shortly, followed by two grim looking aurors. She looked between the two and her wizard, wondering what charge they had managed to trump up for him. She had been in his company so frequently, she'd know if he was up to something. She'd fight for him, free him, whatever the charge!

The taller of the two – the one with the horribly fake floppy hair –spoke up, "Ms. Granger, I'm sorry to inform you, but you are under arrest. You're going to have to come with us."


	20. Chapter 19

**AN: Many many thanks for your patience to everyone still with me. The next few chapters have been so hard to write, and I certainly haven't done them justice so please bear with me through the rough patches.**

Chapter 19

He rolled over in bed, searching for her warmth and realizing it was gone. He could feel the depression in the mattress where her form usually fit. In his sleep-filled haze he simply figured she was using the facilities. Then he noticed her side was cold. She was never gone long enough for that dent to hold the icy chill of the dungeons. Not when they were both so much happier with arms wrapped, legs entangled, hearts beating in unison.

Then it hit him, that blow that caused his chest to expel the breath he had unknowingly been holding. His lungs were void of air. He could try as much as he wanted, expand his chest near to bursting, but nothing would enter. He was suffocating; drowning in the absence of anything in his chest. He was sure if someone opened his ribs, they would see an empty black cavity. Better yet, a black hole that sucked in and destroyed anything that got too near, like air. He felt his head pound as he sluggishly tried to process thought. He remembered a rather large amount of Firewhisky being consumed. He remembered anger, frustration, sadness; a dearth of emotions too overwhelming to name. He was awake enough now to remember she was gone.

No, arrested, but not gone, he corrected. Arrested he could deal with. He reminded himself for the hundredth time that night that she would only be gone from him with death. He reminded himself that only with logic and Slytherin cunning would he free his Lady Love. A silly false imprisonment could be dealt with. And he would ensure it was dealt with most expeditiously. His bed was damned cold without her.

Of all the ridiculous…. _Rotfang Conspiracy?_ Those blathering auror idiots who carted her away would only tell him the basics; Hermione was accused of leading the Rotfang Conspiracy, whatever that was. He'd never even heard such an inane thought pass anyone's lips since that batty Luna Lovegood dreamed her way through his classes, speaking of creatures that existed only in her mind_. _

Speaking of insipid inane ideas, who in their right mind thought to arrest a war hero on a Saturday morning? It was a time when most people were enjoying their leisure, as they had been barely twelve hours before. No, the remainder of his _leisurely_ Saturday had been spent thinking. Plotting if you must. Sorting the best course of action to bring her back to the safety he could offer.

But obviously, he could not give her enough safety, seeing as she was currently locked away in the bowels of the Ministry building, awaiting the trial that would decide her fate. What good was he when he could not even hold the one thing most dear to him? History was obviously circular, as he had once feared. He almost believed her, believed that her presence meant he was not consigned to the fate he had formerly believed. She had rescued him, been the only one to care enough to think of his life as her friends battled for their lives. She had put a mean spirited, snarling, _Death Eater_ above her safety or her friends. And she had not known the contents of the memories that would save Potter's life. She had not known his impetus for changing sides. She had not even known he could _smile_ and she had deigned to save him, knowing full well she would be at the mercy of the Dark Lord if she had been caught. Saving a Death Eater from the fate assigned by the Dark Lord did not sit well with that all-powerful demon of a man.

Yet she saved him. And he returned the favor by watching, stunned, as she was taken away to what was undoubtedly a dank uncomfortable cell in the deepest corner of the Ministry building. He would know from experience were it not for the medically induced coma that had held him captive for the better part of a year as his body – with the help of St. Mungo's – expelled every last drop of Nagini's rather stubborn venom. She had saved him from death, had given him a reason to truly live for the first time in decades… and he just watched as she was taken. What sort of fool was he, that he deserved a woman so good? Obviously fate was telling him he did not deserve her after all, to have her wrenched away from him like that.

He would free her from that wrongful accusation then let her go, as fate was obviously telling him to do. She would be free, as any wonderful savior should be. And she would be free of him and his poisonous presence. If it weren't for him, no one would have dared accuse her of anything. She was Harry Potter's best friend, war heroine, recipient of the Order of Merlin – first class, of course. Who would have dared accuse her of anything less than perfection if she had not been associating with a feared and loathed Death Eater?

Who, indeed? That was an interesting question. His mind immediately pictured a certain red head with an impressive talent for wreaking havoc. A red head that held a personal vendetta against Hermione. Perhaps it was not too late to pay the boy a visit.

XXXX

"Hermione's been _arrested_? What are you on about Snape? No one would ever believe she'd do anything bad enough to be arrested!" Harry Potter fumed at him, obviously as incensed as Severus felt.

The Weasley clan mirrored the look of shock and horror on the boy's face. Well, perhaps the shock was also owing to the rather, erm, _late_ hour that he had appeared at The Burrow. Arthur had answered the door, wand at the ready, and then eased at the look on Severus' face. It was apparent something had happened, so he simply led the man into the parlor and raised the rest of the family. Family which apparently included a live-in boyfriend in the form of Harry Potter. That was how Severus found himself staring down several sleepy headed Weasleys and watched as their faces went from fuzzy headed to comprehension and shock. Harry had been the first to speak, voicing the thoughts of everyone in the room.

Everyone looked expectantly from Harry to him.

"Yes, she has been arrested. Some idiot from the ministry apparently has evidence that she is the leader of something they are calling the Rotfang Conspiracy. They would not tell me anymore than that."

Arthur visibly started at that information. He paused for a moment to collect his thoughts before saying, "I remember talk in the office of some sort of attempt on the Ministry by a group of Death Eaters that evaded capture. Something about a potion that they had planned on slipping into the water supply to erm, _incapacitate_ everyone at the office. Just the yesterday they found some notes about an unknown potion. Last I heard they were still hunting for the creator."

"It seems somehow Hermione has been pinned down as the mastermind."

"But that's ridiculous! We know she's been creating her own potion for vampires, but she'd never do anything like try to take down the Ministry!" This outburst came from Ginevra.

"I do agree with you on the preposterous nature of the claim, but that is not the problem. The issue at hand is how we are to prove her innocence and get her out of that place as soon as possible." He paused to gather his thoughts. "I have all of her notes from her potions, and I can verify her location for nearly all of the last nine months, but I'm not sure the Ministry would find my testimony in the most favorable light. Arthur, do you have any ideas?"

"I could go in to the office, see what's being said," he replied slowly. "We could form a plan from there."

"Hang that! We need to be out finding whoever is really responsible! If this idiot is careless enough to leave notes lying around, he shouldn't be too hard to find!" Harry burst out.

"While I do agree that the person behind this does need to be captured, the more pressing aim is to get Hermione out of whatever cell she is being held in. I am more than willing to hunt down and destroy whoever has caused this mess, but not before Hermione is safely out of there. Whoever left that note behind must have done something to ensure she was targeted. And in that light I fear for her safety. Whoever did this was sure to want her taken to the Ministry, and perhaps not just to cover his trail."

"Are you saying that someone out there wants to kill Hermione?"Potter had gone from fiery to ashen faced when he made that connection.

"Perhaps. Perhaps it was sheer dumb luck that Hermione was fingered, but I feel that whoever did this must have some secret vendetta against her. And at the moment I can only think of one person with emotions that strong who is not currently imprisoned at Azkaban."

"You mean Ron."

"Yes I mean Ronald." He directed his next words to the elder Weasleys, "Molly, Arthur, I apologize for the suspicion, but he is the only one I can think of with such a powerful hatred for her at the moment." They simply nodded, too shocked and upset to say anything. "Do you happen to know where he is?"

Molly answered, "We haven't seen him since he got a job at the ministry a few weeks back. He's owled a few times to let us know he's doing well." She sniffed audibly. "I thought he was finally doing better! I thought perhaps he had finally calmed down about their breakup and was moving on! I had no idea…"

"Perhaps I am wrong. However, in case I am not, I would like to speak with him. Do you think you could arrange to bring him home tomorrow?"

Molly and Arthur both nodded resolutely.

XXXX

Hermione was frightened. It was so cold and dark. She should be used to it after a year of practically living in the dungeons. But Severus' rooms maintained a warmth that her current cell most decidedly lacked. Not that it surprised her. She heard the guards talking about her supposed crime. It was a wonder she hadn't been immediately shipped off to Azkaban in light of the charges she faced. Killing off the entire Ministry in one go…

She heard feet shuffling in the corridor outside her cell. Who would be stalking to corridor in the middle of the night? Trying to voice the bravery she certainly didn't feel, she asked, "Who's there?"

A voice she knew very well called from the dark, "I've come to rescue you Hermione."


	21. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Severus sat patiently, fingers steepled, as he waited for the Minister himself to finish perusing the stacks of parchment in front of him. How long did it take for one man to leaf through a stack of papers that six others had reviewed that morning? He had been through all the notes that morning and knew that every sentence was precise, every idea thoroughly detailed. Even Neville Longbottom could have followed it, worthless as he was in potions.

Not to mention it had already been perused by three other ministry officials, checked for tampering or falsification of any sort, and ensured it was indeed Hermione's magical signature imprinted on the notes. There were, of course, no problems.

So what on earth was taking the Minister so long? He glanced up at the Minister and wondered at the frown on the man's face.

"Master Snape, the paperwork you've brought is more than enough to exonerate poor Miss Granger. She will be cleared of all charges of course."

"I would expect no less. How soon will she be released?"

The Minister's face gave a spasm of fear before going blank. "I am afraid we do not know where she is currently."

Severus spoke quietly, his voice more frightening than Voldemort's had ever been, backed by emotions the Dark Lord had never felt. "What do you mean you do not know where she is? How hard is it to lose someone you have locked in this very building?"

"Ah, you see she erm… She escaped. The afterhours guard was to check in on her around midnight and discovered an empty cell. I assure you we have a team of aurors out looking for her as we speak." He paused and sat up straighter, as if remembering who he was. "Really now Snape, I don't see why one girl is any concern of yours, regardless of her status as a war hero."

"Do you really think I would be willing to sit by and watch as you lot imprison and then _lose_ my intended?"

"You- your- What?"

"My intended. And I shall be more than just displeased if Ministry incompetence has caused me such a great loss after serving the Wizarding World for upwards of two decades. I will search for her and you will ensure that I am not hindered by those dunderheads that you professed to be her jailers. Obviously they have done a sub-par job."

The minister simply nodded.

XXXX

"Ronald. What on earth makes you think I want to have anything to do with you after how you've treated me?" Hermione stepped away from the door, pressing herself against the back wall of her miniscule cell. She would have melted into the stone if she could.

"You should. I'm the only one who's seen what's really been happening. Who's always seen Snape for what he really is. Now you will come with me before he can do you any more harm."

She balked at that. "Remind me Ronald, who was it that severed open my chest?"

"It was for your own good. He was supposed to retaliate, so you'd see that slimy git in a true light. You don't know what he's really like. I'm a guard here, I've heard people talk, seen the trials. I know what he's done. And tonight… Well, you're much safer if you get out of here fast. Now will you come quietly or will I have to stun you?"

"Stun me? You say you're here to help and you're going to stun me? You really have gone mad!"

"Hermione, I know what's coming! You have to be out of here before trouble hits or you'll be blamed. I love you too much to let them blame you for his deeds."

There was a whoosh of red and Hermione was sent into oblivion.

XXXX

Her wand was gone from the magically enchanted safe box. Someone must have taken her; there would have been a trace of her magical signature had she managed to force the box open with someone else's wand. The box was charmed to only open to certain figures: aurors, guards, the Minister. He knew she was a clever witch but there was no way for her to break in to her wand with no one being able to notice.

The same concepts went for the cell she was held in. There was no sign it was forced open, no sign of struggle in the room. There was no sign that she had even been in that cell. Only a guard, an auror, or the Minister could have opened the cell door with no sign.

That considerably narrowed down the list of suspects that could have taken her. And he knew which guard had been on duty the prior evening.

Ronald Weasley.

Years of acting as a spy for Dumbledore and masquerading as a Death Eater to avoid suspicion meant he was very good at quite a few things. Tracking happened to be one of them. Finally he was going to use his skills for something he wanted to do. Severus was going to _enjoy_ hunting down the idiot boy.

XXXX

Hermione opened her eyes, feeling like she was a young child again, waking up after she had been given cold medicine that made her sleep. She was groggy and it felt like her brain just wasn't ready to turn on yet. She was having trouble making her limbs work as well. She glanced around, trying to take stock of her surroundings. It was dark, and her eyes adjusted slowly. She was surrounded by trees. No, not trees, branches arched over to form a rustic tent. It was a large shanty, considering it was just her and Ronald, who she could see lying across from her, his back facing her.

Earlier events caught up with her and she realized she had to move, had to escape while he still slept. Only he would be so stupid as to sleep instead of keep watch on her. She sat up, happy to see he hadn't bothered to tie her up. He really was a dolt. It was a wonder he made it into the Ministry and taken her out unconscious with no one noticing. Pity he couldn't make it even easier and leave his wand lying about. She couldn't see it anywhere in the makeshift tent, nor did she see any bulge that might have hidden it under his clothes. Perhaps it had been blown out of the tent buy a gust of wind, left out by its less than intelligent owner.

She stepped outside the tent, happy to see the sun was starting to come up. That would certainly make it easier to pick her way through the dense undergrowth of the forest. She planned on being as far away as possible by the time Ron managed to bring himself back to wakefulness.

A voice grunted behind her, "Ah, Hermione. You didn't think you'd be escaping that easily did you?" That sneering growling voice certainly wasn't Ron. She turned to face him, and saw the face of a monster, a person she had thought killed during the final battle. How on earth had Fenrir Greyback, werewolf and torturer extraordinaire, managed to elude capture for almost two years?

She glanced past him, saw Ron still sleeping away in the shelter. Well, that complicated things.

**AN: So I know this is a short chapter, compared to recent ones, and for that I beg indulgence. It was the logical place to break, so I didn't give you the rest of the ending at once. I've got to be mean and keep the suspense going just a bit longer ;)**


	22. Chapter 21

**AN: Surprise! I'm back! This chapter has given me a dearth of problems. It was scrapped or re-written at least six times, so please let me know what you think!**

Chapter 21

"How – What – Huh? You're supposed to be dead!" She was stunned. Flabbergasted. This sickening creature, not truly even human anymore, was alive?

Greyback chuckled, low and menacing. "You of all people should know that death can be deceiving, considering who your best friend and your _lover_ are." He practically spat the reference to Severus.

"But the Ministry! They hunted down every Death Eater's body. You were accounted for! How did you manage to wrangle out of that?"

"That, my dear Hermione, is my little secret. But tell me, how do you like my humble little abode? Might I get you a drink? Perhaps a quick…_bite_?" He stalked around her menacingly, ensuring that she could not quickly make a break for it. Not that she would be trying yet, not when facing a werewolf. No, she needed to plan.

She said stiffly, "I think not. If it's all the same to you, I'd rather just be going."

"Going? But the fun is just beginning! I really must insist that you stick around. Your _dear friend_ in there has been dying to see you."

"Ronald? You say that as if I should care. He means as much to me as you do these days." Greyback astonished her when he threw his head back and laughed. This was not the comforting chuckles or rare belly-laughs she could coax from Severus. This laughter sent chills coursing down her spine.

"Hermione, you are a riot. It appears we have much to discuss, the least of which is what to do with you now that you're here." There went those chills again. His grin was almost as horrid as his laugh. "It's been a long night for you, considering the break out from your Ministry approved cell and a nap on the forest floor. Come, have a bite to eat and a sip of drink while we talk. And trust me, I have much to say."

XXXX

Severus held his wand in his hand, paying close attention to every sound and scent that wafted from the campsite he knew was near. He couldn't hear his Hermione but… the voice speaking sounded familiar. Unfortunately, memory told him it was not the damned Weasley brat. He silently edged closer to the clearing, hoping to catch sight of the mystery voice, without being sighted himself. He still could not see Hermione, but he knew she was near. He never thought he would be grateful for an heirloom from a family that despised him, but that Prince necklace was the only way that he had found Hermione so quickly and would help her escape from the madness she was no doubt enduring.

He peered around a bush, thankful for the dense undergrowth of the surrounding forest. He could see the small campfire, cooking some small animal fetched from the same sort of undergrowth he was no hiding in. There sat Weasley chatting with…Fenrir Greyback? That bastard was supposed to be dead!

Well, who knew better than Severus that it was possible to rise from the dead, in a manner of speaking. He had managed to fight his way back to life after near death by snake venom, days alone in that cursed shack, and months in a comatose state as his body and several potions purged the poison from his body. He certainly had made quite a stir when the press discovered he was still alive. He could only imagine the field day they would have when they discovered Fenrir Greyback, terrorizing Death Eater was still at large. Well, if there was a way, he certainly would not be much longer. However, the focus was to get Hermione home with him safely. The damned Ministry could bumble and fumble their way to capturing Weasley or Greyback if they managed to slip through his fingers. Hermione… the goal was just to keep Hermione safe.

He fought off the chill that was creeping past his cloak. It may have been April, but there was certainly still a bite in the air. If Hermione was near, she was certain to be freezing. She had been lounging about in jeans and a light little tee. She had almost been dragged off to the Ministry cell without a jacket, had it not been for his adamant yelling to the contrary. He hoped she still had that light little bit of cloth to keep her warm.

Enough musing, he had viewed enough of the campsite to know there were not any other Death Eaters risen from the grave to assist Weasley and that damned werewolf. He could certainly handle two wizards without calling in the Ministry team that he knew had been tracking him as he hunted for Hermione.

He crept through the remaining underbrush, wand drawn, and stunned Weasley before he had a chance to react. No room for playing by the rules with his love somewhere in the damn forest, alone and cold; most likely scared as well. They all thought Death Eater activity was done, what with the extent of their membership either dead or imprisoned. Well, aside from one lone nuisance that was sending hexes at Severus as he ran the other direction. He glanced around, hoping some of the Aurors had caught up with him, but only saw the lone figure bound and seemingly unconscious under a rather shabbily made shelter. He turned back to the werewolf, seeing only rustling among the trees. The idiot was going to lead him on a fancy little footrace. Severus felt a thrill of malice course down his spine. This would be quite fun.

He sent up sparks over the campsite and took off among the trees as he heard the "pops" of an Auror team

XXXX

Hermione awoke, her head throbbing in pain, and feeling rather odd. Her eyes roamed the busy campsite and her heart slowed in relief. There were Aurors tramping around the area, making far too much noise for a sneak attack. She must have been out when that all happened. She scanned the area, hoping, practically expecting to see… where was he? She made to sit up, wanting a better view of the crowded campsite and discovered that she was tied up. Why would she be tied up? If he was here… Certainly she had been cleared of the ridiculous charges, right? The Aurors weren't here for her again, were they?

The realization that she could be going back to that dank cell only made her struggle harder against her bonds, even though logic told her they were magically generated, she could not help but want to sit up, to speak past the gag that kept her silent, to keep herself from jail again. One of the Aurors turned to her, muttered something that sounded an awful lot like "Weasley" and she was gone again.

XXXX

The next time she woke, she found herself in a warm soft bed to Molly Weasley fussing over her, tucking layers of blankets around her firmly.

"Oh, you're up dear. Now, don't try to get up yet, you just rest. You've had a long couple of days."

"What happened? Where's – ?"

Molly pressed a cup to her lips, coaxing her to drink deeply. "Hush now. There will be enough time for questions later dear. You just get some more sleep."

Harry poked his head in and asked, "How is she?"

Hermione felt her eyes drifting shut again and struggled to retain what little awareness she had, carefully trying to pry her eyelids open again. She saw Molly put a finger to her lips and creep toward the door. "She's fine. Just a slight chill. Nothing a good rest and warm blankets won't heal. Is there any word about – ?"

"Nothing, he's still out in that forest somewhere. I'm heading back to the campsite soon to help with the search. What's the word on Ron?"

"He's in a secure ward at St. Mungo's for now. We'll see what happens when Severus gets back with whoever he's chasing."

"Molly, I just… I wish I knew what the hell was going on. It's been almost two years since the last battle, and this feels like we're being sucked right back in. Why can't we just have nice peaceful lives now that he's gone?"

Why indeed.

XXXX

Severus woke up feeling off kilter. The surrounding darkness only added to his feeling that something was very very wrong. He remembered finding the campsite, binding Weasley, chasing Greyback. Then what happened? He shifted his arm to his sleeve, thankful his wand was still with him, and shot sparks up through the dense forest growth that surrounded him.

Moments later Potter appeared, wand illuminated, and called out to others he supposed to be close, "Hurry, and someone find a healer, he's gonna need it." Turning back to the man sprawled on the forest floor he said, "Don't worry sir, we've got Hermione, she's safe." He breathed a sigh of relief and cooperated with the healer, downing potion after potion, knowing that the sooner this was done with, the sooner he'd be able to see his witch.

XXXX

Hermione shifted on the feather-soft bed, and noticed the moonlight streaming through the cracks in the curtains. Why would she awake after only a few short hours?

The bed shifted behind her and strong, comforting arms found their way around her.

"Severus!" She turned in his arms and he shushed her with a kiss.

"Hush, love. Molly still believes I am sound asleep in a room down the hall, and I would hate to disabuse her of that particular notion." His voice, more gravelly than usual, wrapped around her, nearly as comforting as his physical presence.

She tucked her head against his shoulder and spoke into his ear, "You're alright?"

"Yes, love. There will be much to discuss, but not before we sleep."

She reached up and threaded a hand into his soft, fine hair, wrapping a strand around her finger. "I'm glad you're alright. I was so worried when I woke up and didn't see you. I worried something happened; that I would lose you."

He tucked her more securely against his chest, his arms enveloping her, and confirmed, "I'm just fine, Hermione. I'm here and there's no need to worry anymore." One hand gently smoothed up and down her back. "Go to sleep love."

She sighed contentedly as he kissed her softly on the lips. "Mmmm, I love you Severus."

"I love you too witch, now sleep."

"Alright."

They would worry about motherly Molly Weasly in the morning.


	23. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

"Severus Snape, how could you? You were supposed to be resting, and so was Hermione! You were not supposed to be harassing the poor dear and keeping her awake after such an ordeal! And you need your rest too! You were left for dead in the woods for two days; you should hardly have been able to move, let alone sneak into Hermione's bed. She's only just woken on her own for the first time late yesterday. She needs her rest! I should have locked you in your room like a naughty child. Grown adult indeed…"

Perhaps they should have worried about Molly Weasley just a bit more. She was on a bit of a rampage after finding that Severus had snuck away in the middle of the night. Granted, it had only been to the next room over, but apparently finding him gone had given Molly a bit of a fright, and he was now paying for it in the form of a very motherly lecture, the likes of which he had not heard since his own school days. They had not even doing anything untoward! Just sleeping together, as was their habit. With perhaps just a bit of snogging. What a shame that Molly had walked in just as he had slipped a hand under the edge of her shirt.

Molly was in full rant as they sat in the parlor, Weasley children and Potter all eyeing each other and trying not to laugh, when the Minister of Magic appeared in the doorway. Molly's back was to him, and she continued her rant without missing a beat. After a moment of listening he interrupted Molly mid-rant, no small feat, and said, "Molly, let them have their fun. They are going to be married after all!"

The entire room swiveled toward the couple seated on the sofa. He watched as Hermione's face grew redder, something he had not thought possible after watching her through Molly's rant. Severus was appalled that the man could be so uncouth. He assumed that calling her his intended would be rather self explanatory, as in he intended to propose. The difference was that he had not yet, and now would have to make up for the man's bumbling mistake before he could properly ask such an important question. For all the Minister's posturing about blending the pureblood and muggle-born cultures, the man certainly had forgotten a rather important pureblood tradition. Or perhaps the man simply chose to ignore it. But what could he mean by it?

Severus did not have much of a chance to think as Kingsley continued in his jovial congratulations, "Severus, Ms. Granger, congratulations! Have you two set a date for the big event? This will be quite the event for the Wizarding World, two war heroes joining their lives together after so much hardship. Why, the press will have a field day! You're quite lucky I've been able to keep this information under wraps so far!"

The thought of the press swarming around him and Hermione even more after the past few days was enough to stop Severus dead. The sneer was more menacing than the group had heard from Severus in quite some time as he replied to the Minister, "I should hope you have been successful thus far, as there is not any news for the press to get excited over, except for the Ministry's blunders in hiring a deranged young man, and allowing Ms. Granger to be kidnapped from right under your noses."

"Severus, you must be joking. Why I distinctly recall you referring to Ms. Granger as your intended when we met last."

"Yes, Minister. Might I emphasize the term intended? It is common knowledge that Ms. Granger and I have been courting, but that hardly equates to an engagement, even in a society that lacks the proper decorum of times past. I should think a well educated man such as you would be aware of the difference."

Kingsley had the good grace to look decently ashamed. "I, ah, I apologize for misconstruing that Severus. Still, my best wishes to you both in the future."

This ridiculous prancing around the elephant in the room was becoming too much. "What is it you came for Minister?

"I came to see how you and Ms. Granger were doing after your run in with Ronald Weasley and Fenrir Greyback. Though now I can see you are doing as well as ever Severus." At this he directed a cheeky grin to Hermione. "Also, I have finished speaking with Mr. Weasley about his involvement. However, I do need to ask you and Ms. Granger a few questions in hopes of furthering our investigation. Molly, would you and your family mind giving us time to speak privately?" He waited for the room to clear of the redheaded clan and the door to shit before asking, "Ms. Granger, did you have any chance to speak with either man before Severus and the Aurors found you?"

"I did. A bit. He's mad, Minister. Completely deranged. He kept on about how I would become Ronald Weasley and some plan to take out the entire ministry. He was also thoroughly convinced that Severus was going to kill me." He could feel her trembling against his side and tucked her hand into his elbow and allowed his thumb to glance gently over her knuckles. Slowly her shaking subsided and she continued, "I am sorry, Minister. Greyback hardly took much time to speak to me, and what he did say made very little sense. I wish I had more to offer, but I was stunned a good majority of the time."

"Its quite alright Ms. Granger, I could hardly expect Greyback to confess all his plans to you before stunning you. Do you have any indication how involved in this plot Mr. Weasley is?"

"I'm afraid not. He was sleeping under the shelter the little time I was awake out in the forest. The only time I saw him do anything was when he was stunning me and taking me out of the cell in the ministry."

Sleeping under that shabby lean-to? Severus interjected, "Minister, Weasley could hardly have been sleeping under the tent. I saw him sitting and chatting with Greyback and stunned him as I entered the clearing."

"Ah, perhaps I might clear things up a bit for both of you. You are both correct. Ronald Weasley was indeed sleeping in the shelter. However, Ms. Granger, it appears you were slipped a bit of polyjuice potion while you were speaking with Greyback. The Aurors were somewhat disconcerted to reach the site and find two unconscious Ronald Weasleys."

Two Weasleys? As if one was not enough! He looked over at Hermione, who had the unfortunate experience of spending an hour in such a heinous form. There was a spark of fire in her eyes, followed by a slight misting. She looked up from the hand in her lap and said, "Minister, what if Greyback is not as mad as I first thought? If I had been polyjuiced to look like Ronald Weasley, he must have been counting on Severus to find me. What if Greyback planned to use his animosity toward Ronald to work in his favor? He must have meant for… for… Severus to – " To kill her. Disguised as Weasley. He had been sorely tempted, when seeing the lanky redhead sitting in the clearing, sitting nonchalantly with Greyback. The man was not mad, he was sodding brilliant! To play off Severus' well known hatred for the boy…

The Minister had the same stunned look on his face that Severus did. If he had been sly enough to polyjuice Hermione and use Severus' newfound emotions against him… Well, things could have gone badly indeed, particularly if Severus had remained more the man he had been in his former life; in the life Greyback new him from. If the werewolf had managed to have Ronald infiltrate the Ministry and kidnap Hermione, what else was he capable of? Finally Kingsley spoke, "Well, this is… certainly a new development. Do either of you have anything else that might be relevant? Severus, did Greyback say anything to you, once you chased him in the woods?"

"I am sorry to report the bastard managed to catch me from behind. From that point, we were far too busy trading hexes to have any discourse. I did manage to get a few hexes of my own to hit their mark, but I was stunned and did not wake until full dark had set in. My only suggestion would be to see if perhaps he stumbled bleeding through the forest, in the off chance that he did not disapparate after I was unconscious."

"I have had a team scouring the area where you were found, but we have not found any indication he there. The rain washed away everything. Ms. Granger, are you sure he said nothing else? If he is not mad, I must know every single word."

"There is nothing else Minister. He said I would turn into Ronald, Severus would k-kill me, and that he was going to take down the Ministry. He never gave any indication how or when, or even if he would have help. I would assume he must have other help, particularly now that Ronald is now locked safely in St. Mungo's."

"You are quite right Ms. Granger. After speaking to Mr. Weasley, it appears he was little more than a pawn. He claims to have been Imperiused for quite some time now, perhaps for about a year. The Aurors plan to administer a strong dose of Veritaserum to check the validity of his statements, and to see what else he knows. As of now, he claims to have been forced to take the guard job at the Ministry as well as to attack you last fall. If this is indeed the case, I give you fair warning now that he will be released to the care of his family in a few days' time, once he is better healed. Now, please excuse me, I must return to the Ministry and inform them of what you've told me. Ms. Granger, Severus." He gave them both a short nod and swept out the room as quietly as he had earlier entered.

XXXX

Hermione sat silently on the sofa trying to digest their discussion. Greyback had arranged for her love to kill her. What sort of twisted, sadistic creature could do that? Sadly, she knew any Death Eater would have tried the same for the sheer pleasure of it. She gripped tighter to Severus' arm and asked softly, "Why did you stun me when I was polyjuiced as Ron, why not kill when you thought it was him? After the way he acted in November…"

He was silent for the longest time. She almost feared he did not hear her. He replied, as quietly as she, "It was because of you." He paused to clear his throat. "I could not kill him and risk Azkaban if it meant being separated from you. The rage, the hatred was very much there, but I have something to live for that I never had previously; that's what stopped me."

A sob caught in her throat and she turned her head to his chest. She could feel him press his lips to the top of her head as his arms drew her as close as possible. They gripped each other for dear life and yet it was not close enough. He drew her onto his lap and held her as she cried. Tears of sorrow mixed with joy. When she felt she could speak again, she told him, "Severus, I don't know what I would do if they had not found you; if you had died in the forest. Thank you for coming after me, for risking your life once more to be the protector."

His reply came out muffled from her curls as he refused to move away, even slightly, "Love, I cannot lose you again. That night I thought you imprisoned was the longest and hardest of my life. You must promise me one thing, Hermione. Promise you will never, under any circumstance, take off the necklace I gave you."

"Never. But why?"

"Its how I found you. Slytherin as my family has always been, there is a tracking charm in the necklace, to find a stray wife. I certainly do not fear you will ever stray from me, but I was able to find your location because of it."

"Oh!" She paused and gave a small smile. "It seems that your Slytherin heritage is good for something besides mischief after all." She felt his mouth twitch against her head. "Severus, did you really call me your intended to the Minister and not think about the can of worms it was likely to open up?"

"How was I to know that he would ignore tradition in favor of overreaction?"

She gave a snort of laughter. "Everyone believes they know how stoic and unfeeling you are, Severus. Coming from you, a statement like that is tantamount to proposing marriage, declaring us soul mates, and proclaiming your eternal love for me publicly. You had to know Kingsley would get a bit overexcited about a statement like that."

It was his turn to give a small snort of laughter and her overzealous statement. "Surely you jest, witch. No one in their right mind would believe me capable of such emotion."

She looked up at him and kissed the tip of his nose. "I know you are capable of the emotion, although I doubt your ability to exclaim it with such abandon."

"You doubt that I am capable of something?" He looked at her in the teasing glare she had come to adore. "I will have you know I am quite capable of doing so. It is just not in my nature."

"Oh, I know Severus. And you must know I am perfectly content without such overly dramatic measures; I just want to be with you."

He smiled at her and they settled back into a comfortable silence. With her head nestled back under his chin, she did not notice the frown that grew on his face. "Hermione, you know I was unconscious with Greyback around. What if –" He took a deep breath. "Well, what if he bit me?"

"Then we will have a week until we find out. And if he did bite you, then you will just have to teach me to brew Wolfsbane." She placed a hand on his cheek and stared into his eyes. "Severus, I was friends with Remus Lupin. I hardly hold to the prejudice that many in our world do. If you were bitten, we will deal with it until we are able to find a more permanent cure. We hardly have to stop being together because you might be a werewolf now."

"Hermione, love, what about marriage? What about children? I can hardly drag you down with me if I am spurned by the Wizarding World, then follow that up by asking you to deal with me turning into a destructive monster once a month while raising children. That would be too much of a burden to place on you."

"Severus, stop. We don't even know if you've been bitten yet. If you have, we will deal with the consequences as they come. I'm sure we can find a safe place for you to go and take the Wolfsbane and wait for that time to pass, and I am more than capable of running a classroom and household until you revert back to your usual self. This is hardly the awful situation you are building it up to be."

His arms tightened around her once more as he asked, "Would you really be willing to marry a werewolf?"

"Well, it depends on the werewolf asking. It would hardly be seemly of me to accept a marriage proposal from Greyback after his attempts to get me killed."

"Witch, you are absurd. You know I was referring to someone you are a bit closer to."

She smirked at him and told him, "I realize you meant yourself. But I could hardly let you get away with proposing in such a manner. You won't know the answer to that particular question until you actually ask it. I realize you are innately Slytherin, but you will not connive your way into getting an answer from me that way!"

"Minx. How is it you know just the way to make me feel better?"

"The same way you know how to stop my nightmares before they have time to begin."


	24. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Ronald Weasley was to return home in a few short hours. During the week he had been at St. Mungo's, he had been interrogated numerous times, subjected to a Veritaserum confession, and even asked to share memories in a pensieve. The verdict had come back that he had indeed been Imperiused for over a year and it was Greyback's will, not Ron's, to attack and attempt to kill Hermione. However, no one was willing to take many chances, and he was being released from the hospital under Molly Weasley's watchful eye, and check-ins with an auror daily, to ensure there was no further contact with Greyback. Severus was not willing to chance even that. As soon as he heard the news of Ronald's imminent return, he whisked Hermione back to Hogwarts. Fortunately they had the excuse that the Easter holiday was ending so they did not have to offend Molly by rejecting her offer of further hospitality. By the time they reached his quarters, he felt like he could use another holiday to recover from the past week of excitement and recovery amongst the Weasley clan. It was just fortunate that Greyback's kidnapping plot was nicely timed to coincide with the students' weeklong sojourn to their homes.

Hermione sat down on the couch and Severus surprised himself by removing robes and coat and lying on the couch to put his head in her lap. Both had been missing the quiet intimacy of their time alone in his quarters. It was the only time he felt free enough to partially disrobe, roll his sleeves up, and truly relax. However, today was not a day to relax. He had been feeling the pressure, and from Hermione's unusual quiet, he knew she felt it too.

To start with, Ronald was being released from St. Mungo's shortly. To add to the pressure, the term began again the next day, and both had been busy throughout most of the day preparing. However, the primary source of stress for them both was the knowledge that soon – within two or three hours – they would know if Greyback had indeed bitten Severus during his time unconscious in the forest. Soon he would know, and regardless of Hermione's acceptance, he did worry about being turned out from the school and rejected by the Wizarding World. While they had never been close, Severus had watched Remus Lupin as he was shunned and struggled to find work, struggled to survive. While he had some money put aside, he did not want a future with Hermione in which he had to ask her to support them both. How could he in good conscience ask her to join her life with his when he would add pressure without being able to remove the burden? All day he had been beseeching God or whatever higher power was out there to help him. His future was hanging on one rather significant detail that would be revealed soon.

He lay there with his head on her legs, resting against her stomach with eyes closed. She was running her fingers through his hair with one hand, while he lay with fingers laced through the other. This peace was needed after what they had just finished. His private lab had been emptied of everything but a few old chairs and the door had been fortified, incase he did turn into a werewolf. All of their research and books were now stacked neatly in a corner of the sitting room, and the lab tables and instruments were either shrunk or boxed and moved into the classroom for the night. They had also discussed plans for the morning, if he was still incapacitated. She was prepared to stash away the boxes from their private lab and teach his lessons. This would be nothing too terribly surprising to the students after her near constant presence in the classroom all year, but some of the more astute would gather that something was a bit off when he made no appearance. Minerva had been informed, of course, but he worried about backlash if they did have to inform students and parents that he had been bitten. Perhaps this was karmic payback after what he did to Lupin following the man's year as a teacher. He turned his thoughts away from the stress and worries weighing him down, and focused on the witch that was trying her hardest to relax him. He adored how she absentmindedly played with a button on his shirt as her hand rested in his. He could tell her mind was going at the speed of light, but she was fighting to hide it. He knew her too well for her to get away with it, though he appreciated the effort. He glanced at the clock and saw they had time for a quick dinner before he would stow himself away in the emptied lab. He pulled her hand to his mouth for a kiss before pulling himself upright.

"Come love, time to eat." What would happen after was implied, but left unsaid.

He tugged her up and was surprised when she threw her arms around his neck and squeezed tight. It appeared she was just as worried as he about the results of the night. He knew she had to be, but it calmed him to know he was not alone in his fears. A spark of hope told him that perhaps things would not be that bad after all.

XXXX

His bed was far too large and cold without him. She clutched his pillow and breathed in his spicy scent in hopes that it would calm her enough to sleep. So far, it wasn't working. How she wished she could be in that room with him, holding his hand and comforting him through the wait. She knew how ridiculous the thought was. If he did transform, she would hardly survive a night alone in a nearly empty room with a werewolf. The little voice in her head, that irrational, emotional part of her told her that if she could be in that room waiting with him, then everything would be okay. The sun had set an hour ago, and typically the transformation would have happened by now. Yet they had agreed, just to be safe, he would give it a bit of extra time. First time transformations were a bit different. They typically happened shortly after sunset, as usual, but there had been a handful of documented cases where the first transformation had taken place three or four hours after sunset. So Hermione waited. And it was killing her to wait with no useful occupation. No book could hold her attention, there was no more work to be done for classes in the morning, and his pillow was a poor substitute for his warm form sleeping next to her.

Frustrated, she tossed the pillow aside and got up. Perhaps a cup of tea would help; that was how her mother always seemed to calm her down. She made her way to the sofa, not noticing the small owl waiting for her atop the armchair. It flew over to her, a crumpled missive in its beak. It was a letter from Ronald. She knew one would come as soon as they found out about how long he had been Imperiused. And she knew it wasn't his fault, but she still couldn't even think about him without seeing the look of malice on his face as he hexed her chest open. Logically she knew he had no control, knew he could not stop himself, but she still could not stop the nauseated feeling that grew in the pit of her stomach as she remembered how he had turned his family and Harry against her, how he tried to kill her, how he kidnapped her to deliver to Greyback. She should be able to separate Imperiused Ronald from her former friend and boyfriend Ron, but so far she just couldn't.

She took a deep breath and opened his letter. It was rather typical of Ron; the gist was, "Hi, how are you? Sorry I tried to kill you when I was Imperiused. Want to get dinner? Love, Ron."

Dinner? Sorry I tried to kill you, let's have dinner. Was he _serious_? Apparently a year of being controlled had done nothing for his mental prowess. The boy must be mentally gone still. Another deep breath was needed. Or two. How was she supposed to respond to that? "Hi, its alright you tried to kill me. Sorry, I can't have dinner with you; I don't know if you've been told, but I'm in love with Severus Snape." Yeah, that would go over well. She set the letter aside and warmed her now cold tea. She would worry about the letter when she could think a bit more rationally. Perhaps after she didn't have to wait and worry over Severus, locked away in his lab. She padded over and pressed her ear to the door, hoping to hear something that would hint at what was happening inside, but there was nothing. She returned to the sofa and sipped her tea slowly, letting the drink calm her.

She felt herself slowly drifting awake and nestled herself closer against his neck, hoping to fall right back asleep. However, the jostling of the bed needed to stop soon or she would get really frustrated. It felt like she had only been asleep for a few minutes, and she knew she would need a few hours, at least, to be able to get up and function in the morning and keep the students from melting or exploding anything. She mumbled, "Bed, why are you moving so much?"

A deep voice caressed her in response, "My apologies love. I shall endeavor to move a bit more carefully next time."

Her eyes popped open, coming awake enough to realize it was not her bed speaking, but rather Severus carrying her across the sitting room to bed. "Severus! What – What time is it?"

"A bit past midnight. It appears I shall not have to bother you with learning Wolfsbane after all." He grinned at her, a rare true smile, rather than his usual smirk. Her arms found their way quickly around his neck and he stumbled slightly with the force of her movement.

"Severus!"

"Alright, love. I suppose I will still teach you, but not tonight. It's late and we have both had a long stressful wait." He deposited her gently on the bed and followed, pulling her close.

She was asleep almost as soon as she hit the mattress. She barely managed to mumble, "I love you Severus" then was out.

He kissed her forehead, drew the blanket around them both, and followed her into slumber.

XXXX

The following Friday evening, they sat quietly by the lake with her hand tucked in the crook of his elbow, sides pressed together, her head resting on his shoulder; they were not saying a word, but speaking volumes. Both were perfectly comfortable in the silence after their long, conversation-filled dinner out. He knew she had been surprised by his last minute invitation, but was delighted nonetheless. He knew he had further surprised her by donning a suit and taking her to a lovely little Italian restaurant in muggle London. It was a place he had enjoyed in his youth – a time he rarely thought of with happiness. However, after such a long holiday followed by a week without reprieve, he felt the need for the comforts most closely associated with a happy memory of his parents. As he told Hermione, it was one of the few things from his youth that he could share with her. He could still picture the subtle shock and happiness on her face when he willingly told Hermione about his youth, about going to dinner with his parents at the age of ten to celebrate his parents' wedding anniversary.

It had been a good month. His father finally had work and was not drinking nearly as much at that time. That night his mother had managed to burn the roast, which happened more often than not. However, rather than start yelling, his father had ushered them out the door to dinner at a small family run Italian restaurant. It had actually ended up being a pleasant evening, though the peace in his childhood home certainly did not last. It had amazed him to find, on his last trip to check on the house at Spinner's End, that the restaurant was still open and run by the son of the previous owner.

The restaurant brought out feelings of nostalgia in him that rarely surfaced. As he waited for Hermione to finish in the lab, he realized he could add to his pleasant memories of the place by returning there with the woman he loved. So he had been dressed in a charcoal grey suit when Hermione finally emerged from their now-righted lab. She merely eyed him and smirked, "A red tie, really? What have I done to you, Severus?"

He followed her through the sitting room to his bedroom – theirs now, really. He was inordinately pleased to see an assortment of her things hanging in the wardrobe next to his. "I will have you know I do own more than black and green clothing. It would just not be seemly to show up at a quidditch match wearing anything other than Slytherin green. I doubt my reputation would survive, and you know how valuable that is as potions professor and Head of House. My Slytherins need that appearance so they know they can seek me out for help."

She kissed him softly and said, "Severus, that was no admonition. I understand. However, you do realize you will be seen thus when we walk through the dungeons and out of the castle at a time when all the students are going to and coming from dinner? Its hardly cold enough that you could get away with a cloak for disguise."

"I realize that. I am sure the students' heads are already full of confusion from my rather different behavior with you that a red tie is hardly going to send them over the edge. They already believe you do miraculous things for my temperament. It is certainly amusing to hear their whispers when you leave the room. It is as if they believe I will start outright hexing them without you to stop me."

"You poor dear. Your reputation as bat of the dungeons is in tatters because of a mere Gryffindor. What ever will you do?"

He kissed her soundly and have her a gentle push toward the restroom. "Get changed witch. Our dinner plans will not wait all night. You may finish your teasing later."

She proceeded to take him at his word, ribbing him happily about becoming a nostalgic softie during the meal. He understood her playful joking; he certainly would have scoffed if someone would have told him even as recently as a year ago how he would have changed under the influence of the feisty witch sitting next to him. His time serving two masters during nearly twenty years of cumulative war was enough to leave a man irrevocably scarred, but his witch, his Hermione was slowly chiseling away years of damage to free the relaxed happy man that lurked deep within him. Their delightful meal followed by a peaceful silence had left him more content than he had been in ages.

He casually brushed his pocket – to double-check its contents – before turning to Hermione.


End file.
